The Diary of an Ex Businessman
by Tomcat171
Summary: When a night out at the Yellow Flag ends in disaster, Revy discovers that Rock had been recording his days with Lagoon Company in a diary. How does he really feel about his new life, job and friends? Rated M for language and some scenes of violence.
1. The Beginning of the End: Part 1

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

**The Diary of an Ex-Businessman**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 1 - 'The Beginning of the End: Part 1'**

Rock was sat at the desk in his room, his face muscles distorted into a minor look of contempt.

The ambient noise was as expected of the Roanapur nightlife: windows shattering, gunshots in the distance, the screeching of tires. Hearing this, he turned his head to look out through the slots in the window blinds and quietly sighed. He looked back to the desk.

"_Not once in the countless times I've slept here has the night been silent. Ironic, considering that this clusterfuck of corruption is inhabited by those seen as dead by any kind of __real__ civilisation, which also includes myself. But even amongst the filth that runs through the streets, there are some things that make this new life worthwhile."_

The pen in his hand danced over the pale beige pages of the notebook sat in front of him, the light of the moon and outdoor building signs coming through the window allowing him to see it just enough in which to write.

"I really need to buy a lamp…" Rock murmured under his breath. Two knocks on the door pulled him from his half-mesmerised state.

"Rock! You're not sleepin' already are ya? Ya goddamn sissy." The ever recognizable voice that Rock had learned to sense from half a world away rattled his eardrums. A distant light inside the Lagoon Company's office section enlarged Revy's silhouette against the thin windows of the door, like a scene reminiscent from a horror movie.

"What's up, Revy?" Rock did away with his trademarked cheerful tone, deciding instead to keep it equivalent to his current mood of thought.

"We're heading to the Yellow Flag! Bao just got it fixed up again and Dutch wants to treat us, c'mon!" The excitement behind her voice was apparent, Rock was fully aware by now that a drink at the Yellow Flag - or a challenging gunfight - was Revy's desired drug.

Throughout all of this, Rock was still writing in the notebook, trying to keep his concentration. Briefly pausing, he looked up at the wall in front of him and let a short smile form across his face.

"_I can't find a better example of this than..."_

A dull growl began to emanate from the door.

"Rock! Don't even think about pullin' a rain check or I'll give ya a new nostril to breathe through!"

"I hear you Revy; just give me a few minutes." Rock's impatience was making itself obvious through his voice.

"You've got two, then I'm gonna bust in there and drag you out by your balls!"

"Got it…" Rock's response was oddly out of character, he'd normally be stammering his words after such a threat; after all, this was his manhood at stake.

As quickly as she'd come, Revy's footsteps began to dissipate once more as she traversed back towards the couches.

_"Looking back, I realise that I've been contradicting myself whenever I've written in here. But now it's time I set something straight…"_

With only a few more strokes to indicate the end of his sentence, Rock closed the book with a distinctive thud. Laying the pen down on the desk, he picked the book up - which had a thickness equal to that of an ordinary bible, but a few centimetres taller and thinner - and slotted it into the nearest draw, pushing it half-closed.

Standing up, Rock loosened his tie by an inch, opting to leave the top button undone. He made his way to the door, calmly pulling it open, and making his way out into the office.

"Took your sweet time Rock, I thought you'd be happy with the concept of drinks on a Friday night" Dutch was sprawled over one of the couches, his head resting at one end, his feet propped up at the other.

Rock brought a hand up and scratched the back of his head. "I'm more than happy with it, Dutch. I was just finishing something up, something that I couldn't avoid."

"That important, huh?"

Rock could only nod in reply, but soon resorted to scanning the room. "Where's Benny? And Revy for that matter?"

"They're sitting in the car waiting for your pencil-pushin' ass to hurry up" Dutch jokingly smiled.

Rock could only let out a chuckle, revealing a slight hint of embarrassment. "Well then, shall we Dutch?"

"Let's, my friend."

* * *

The four-strong crew of the Lagoon Company exited the Dodge Coronet just as Benny parked it across the road from the newly renovated Yellow Flag. It had taken all this time for Bao, the owner, to restore it to its original glory after the assassin-turned-maid Roberta blew it to kingdom come with her grenade-fest. That was 8 months ago.

As they composed themselves, Revy looked over to Rock, who was remaining surprisingly silent.

"Jesus Christ, Rock!" Revy knocked Rock out of his dazed state with a swift slap to the back of the head.

"What the hell's you're problem tonight? You've had your lips sewn up since you got in the fuckin' car! I swear to God, are you trying to act like that crazy bitch cleaner with the voice box? I can help you be like that if you want!"

She began to reach over for one of her Cutlasses, the corners of her lips forming a tiny smile.

"Revy…" the one word that came from Rock's mouth was enough to make her freeze.

"…Shut up." His eyes never left the ground, his head bowed like someone who lost big at the races.

Revy's eyes widened in shock. She knew that Rock rarely had the nerve to talk back to her in such a determined tone. Why the hell was he being so cranky?

"I was thinking…about things."

"Jeez, Rock. I was pullin' your leg, no need to act like you're having a goddamn PMS moment!" She turned her head away. "Guy can't even take a fuckin' joke anymore"

Dutch and Benny were already crossing the road, knowing that the couple's confrontation was one of the daily-basis kinds. It was already 10:30pm, so the Yellow Flag was already bustling, but that never stopped the quad from wishing to occupy their permanently reserved seats at the bar. The usual sounds of shattering glass, laughing and shouting radiated from the front door; once again, a sound that Rock had now considered normal.

"Well you can stop thinking now. All ya need to worry about is the booze! We ain't gonna stop until dawn…or until one of us gets so wasted we lose consciousness!" Revy's voice made another fast transition to that of glee. She swung her arm behind Rock's shoulders, resulting in a large slapping sound, and began to practically drag her 'buddy' with her.

Revy's curiosity was now almost totally focussed on Rock as they walked up to the front door of the Yellow Flag. _"What the hell could suddenly turn him into this unresponsive bag of meat?" _was the question now consuming her thoughts.

"You're not still thinking about that day at the dock are you?" Revy's mouth could no longer keep itself shut.

"Huh?" Rock looked over at her, his eyes slightly wider.

"Back in Japan, the girl at the dock. You know, after me and Jumbo…" she stopped, opting to choose her next words carefully, "…I told you not to look at her. But what did you do?"

"Er…" Rock looked back down at the ground as they made their way through the doors and towards the bar. "It's not that. I know it hasn't been long, but I learned to put that behind me. She was going to do it either way; no words from me would ever stop her. She detested me…us, because she knew that our alliance with Hotel Moscow made us her enemy."

"You need a drink pretty fuckin' bad" Revy removed her arm from Rock's shoulders and proceeded to push him sharply in his back, lurching him towards a seat at the bar. As Revy sat down next to Rock, she waved a hand at the bartender and owner, Bao.

"Hey, Bao. You better give this one the strongest stuff you got" Her thumb evidently pointing in Rock's direction.

"No, I'm fine" Rock put a hand up in defence, finally adding some cheer to his tone. "Just a Bacardi, please."

Bao looked back at Revy, who shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Bao, how much was it to rebuild the place from scratch?" Dutch asked from across the bar.

"You watch it Dutch, you're lucky Hotel Moscow sorted out the insurance. If I'd sent you the invoice, then you'd be royally shittin' yourself." Bao exclaimed as he slid a drink into Dutch's hand.

"That bad, huh?" Dutch brought the glass up to his lips

"You don't know the half of it." Bao walked to the other end of the bar as some patrons tried to get his attention.

"I have a feeling that he won't want us coming in here anymore if this keeps going on" Benny finally spoke with a light-hearted joke.

"You've said that every time this has happened since you joined, Benny boy. You're not a very good fortune teller." Dutch laid his glass down, "We're one of Bao's best patrons, and as long as were putting money into his next 'Fix-The-Bar' savings pot, he'll keep the drinks flowing."

"Amen to that!" Revy lifted her glass and downed it, slamming it back down onto the counter. Bao already had her next one ready and waiting. Rock on the other hand was taking it easy, taking the occasional sip.

"Take it like a man, Rock! What, Mister 'Never-Underestimate-A-Japanese-Businessman' lost his drinking roots?"

Rock let out a small laugh, "Good memory" a smile made itself visible. "That was one of our first confrontations wasn't it? It was so long ago, but it still feels like yesterday."

"Couldn't a said it better myself" Revy laughed, slapping Rock on the back. "We've come a long way since then, but you're still quite the rookie."

Rock brought his glass up once more; pausing for a brief moment "Yeah…we have come a way haven't we?" his smile still grew a little larger. He looked over at Revy, who herself was looking at him in a mildly confused manner. Perhaps she was wondering what he meant by that reply. Their eyes stayed glued to one another's for a few more seconds before they both looked away. Rock's cheeks began to display a small reddish tint. Deciding to humour her, he downed what was left of its contents.

Upon placing the glass back down, he wiped the residue from his lips with the back of his hand. Looking back at Revy, he saw a look of approval in her eyes.

"Satisfied?"

"Not quite" Revy's tone and smile were similar to that of a mischievous child.

She turned to Bao once more. "We need another ten of those up here pronto"

"Er, Revy?"

"I wanna play a little game, baby Rocky" Revy's smile bore some teeth, her excitement obvious from her voice.

"Here we go again…" Benny whined as he turned to face the pair.

"This time, it's to see who can down all their glasses first. Speed over quantity, I'm sure you can handle that."

Rock smiled again "Alright, I suppose it won't hurt. What's in it for the winner?"

Revy took a second to think, looking outside the bar. "How about…the winner makes the loser do something for them? For example, you can copy one of those perverted Japanese cartoons and make me your slave for a day, if that's how ya roll."

Rock swallowed, the statement suddenly implanted a freaky image of Revy wearing Roberta's maid outfit in his head, and he shook it clear of his imagination, the sight of it not pleasing him. But then again, he hadn't had a lot of fun in a while…

"Deal. But on one condition."

"I'm listening…" Revy was concentrating more on the drinks that Bao was lining up in front of them.

"We have to declare our punishment for the loser right now, before we start" Revy snapped her head over, shooting a dark look at Rock.

"Where's the fuckin' fun in that?"

"If we know what the other person wants us to do, then it'll spur us on to drink faster in order to win. It's simple logic, Revy."

Revy frowned, but came to realise that it was a better incentive to make them down the drinks.

"Fine." Out of nowhere, she grabbed Rock's tie and yanked his body towards her so that their faces became only inches apart, their eyes meeting each other's. "If you lose…"

Revy parted her lips and pursed them slightly, letting her eyelids droop. Rock noticed this, and was almost ready to reciprocate, until:

"…You'll be wearing that Hawaiian shirt I got you all those months ago. Not just for a day, or a week, but for a whole fuckin' month." Revy's little display paid off, lulling Rock into a false sense of security.

"Aw, crap…" Rock's immediate regret at his suggestion was palpable.

"On top of that, if I so much as think that you'll try to toss it, I'll tear you a new asshole"

Rock could do nothing but sigh, Revy's wish had been spoken, and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Okay…I'll just have to go with that" Revy pushed him away, back into his chair.

"Be grateful, if I wanted to be really cruel, I'd make you walk back to the office naked." Rock's pupils immediately constricted, just the thought of doing that made him shiver in fear.

"Dutch, look at that face" Benny, who was trying to hold in his desire to laugh, tapped Dutch on the shoulder and pointed out Rock's anguished look.

"Huh, If only we had a camera" Dutch murmured.

Rock shook himself out of it once more, quickly coming to a decision. "Okay, Revy. If I should win…"

Revy was preparing for the worst.

"You have to be nice to me for a day."

Her face quickly sunk, displaying extreme boredom. "That's the best you can think of? Rock, you're a goddamn pussy!"

"Well, since I haven't had one of those days yet, I want to know how it'll feel. That means no shouting, insults or death threats, no hitting or grabbing, and definitely no pointing those Cutlasses at me. I'm not your own personal moving target y'know. Oh and I wouldn't mind you smiling a few times" Rock flashed a mocking smile at Revy as if to imitate his wish.

"Smart-assed son of a bitch" Revy growled and looked back at the row of glasses on the counter. "But I guess it could be worse…"

* * *

**Hope you all like it so far! Reviews are most welcome!  
****  
This and 'Intro Part 2' are basically scene setters for the rest of the story.**

**UPDATE: Just so everybody knows, 'Intro (Part 1)' is the name of Chapter 1, and likewise goes for 'Intro (Part 2)' which is simply the name of Chapter 2.**


	2. The Beginning of the End: Part 2

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

**The Diary of an Ex-Businessman**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 2 - 'The Beginning of the End: Part 2'**

Speeding down the wrong side of the main road, the driver and two other occupants of the BMW M3 frantically swivelled their heads to get a decent view. The two in the back seat began cocking the slides of their MAC-10 sub-machine guns and prepared themselves at the closest windows. From behind them, the familiar rattle of a Heckler & Koch MP5K hammered their eardrums, even through the persistent humming of air rushing through the open windows.

The men ducked as the rear windshield shattered, spraying its razor-sharp remains over them.

"Shoot back! You fuckin' idiots!" The driver yelled behind him. "If those Colombians catch up to us we're fuckin' history!"

One of the men in the back seat leant out and began to spray the front of the chasing Mercedes. The sparks of the ricochets indicated the hits on the hood, but the car continued its pursuit. From behind the lead car, two more sets of headlights appeared and began to grow in size; they were moving around to flank them. The driver of the BMW noticed this in the rear-view mirror.

"Shit! Hang on!" The driver had no time to brake as he forced the wheel to the left, taking a smaller side road. The men in the backseat grabbed on to what they could to stop themselves flying into the side of the vehicle.

The man by the right-hand window lost his grip and ended up halfway out. Seizing the opportunity, he fired on the broadside of the nearest Mercedes as it began to turn. The side windows shattered, forcing the vehicle to overshoot the turn and continue straight on.

"One a' them's bugged out!" the man called to the driver.

"Don't think it's over! He'll be back!"

"Why the fuck are they after us anyway?" the second man screamed "We didn't do shit to them!"

He leant out the window and fired a volley of rounds at the lead Mercedes, which was now within ten metres of them. The majority of rounds lodged themselves into the door panelling; a few lucky shots went through the open rear side window that in turn shattered the windshield behind it. The car briefly swerved and pulled back as the driver tried to avoid getting hit as well.

"Were you paying ANY attention while we were here? We were selling their own product without them knowin' ya thick-skulled_ coño_! There's no way they could'a caught us unless some bastard tipped them off!" The driver ducked as another volley of 9mm fire rattled the interior of the BMW.

"I told you comin' to this city was a big mistake! You fucked up big time Duarte!" exclaimed the first man as he slid another magazine into the MAC-10 he held.

"Shut up José! António! Why have ya stopped shootin'?"

There was no reply. He could see the man known as António leaning against the back of the chair he was sat on in his mirror, facing the window.

"José, the fuck's up with António?"

José leant over. Placing a hand on António's shoulder and pulling him over, the damage soon became evident.

"He's dead Duarte! Got a hole the size a' Manson crater in his fuckin' forehead!"

"Shit!" was the only word the driver needed to say.

Just ahead of them, the Mercedes that overshot the turn earlier cut in from a small back alley, levelling out just in time for both vehicles to be side by side.

Duarte, the BMW driver, saw the dull reflection of light running along the barrel of another MP5K from the back seat. He had no choice but to duck.

"Double shit!"

The cars briefly collided, kicking up a small spark shower and knocking off the aim of the back seat shooter. However, the rounds that he did fire landed dead-on inside the front-right tire of the BMW.

With the sudden deflation of the tire and subsequent disintegration of the rubber, the car began to violently swerve back into the Mercedes, heavily denting the driver-side door.

The BMW bounced off once more and continued to violently swerve. Duarte grabbed hold of the wheel in desperation, but immediately knew that he couldn't maintain control. The car careered toward the central reserve, the speed and angle of impact instantly flipping the car onto its roof and off the road…

* * *

Rock and Revy were both onto their second glass; Revy couldn't help but quickly glance over at Rock, who kept his eyes closed to avoid distractions.

At the exact same moment, they had emptied the contents, inverted their glasses and slammed them both on the counter. By now, most of the other bar patrons were surrounding them, waving cash in one hand and flipping the bird at opposing punters with the other. The cheers completely drowned out the ambient noise, but that didn't stop Revy from hearing it…

Revy froze, as if dead, in the middle of her third glass while Rock continued on. She placed the glass back down and immediately turned towards the front of the bar. The other patrons screamed out at her to continue on. But most of them knew Revy's reputation by now: If she stopped in the middle of a duty, something bad was about to go down. Rock finally noticed Revy's statuesque posture as he finished his fourth glass.

"Revy? What's up?" Rock had absolutely no idea about the forthcoming danger.

Dutch grabbed Benny's shoulder, "Benny, get behind the bar" Without a word, Benny ran around the sidewall and slid behind the counter. Dutch quickly followed, mounting clean over the counter and landing with a hard 'thud'.

As if on cue, a black BMW M3 crashed through the wall - sending shards of stone, wood and glass in all directions - and began to slide towards the bar. Rock froze; his mind losing all ability to process thought. The car was getting closer and closer, which was when he suddenly felt a dull thud on his chest.

The car kept going, and smashed into the bar, twisting the woodwork. The bulletproof casing inside the panelling seemed enough to absorb most of the impact. As fast as it had come, the moment had passed, and there was a deathly silence.

Rock slowly opened his eyes, trying to stop loose dust and debris from temporarily blinding him. As he shifted his body, he felt something uncomfortable lying beneath him. He brought his hand up to steady himself, and ended up grabbing something that felt soft to the touch. Curious and confused, he looked down.

Revy was staring up at him, a look of sheer shock in her now bloodshot eyes. She slowly spoke between clenched teeth.

"Rock. Get…the fuck...off…"

Looking down, Rock realised the problem. He took a sharp inhalation of breath, and his pupils constricted once more.  
Still trying to get his head together, he couldn't get himself to move.

"Er…I…" Rock swallowed, he looked at Revy, and then to his hand, and back to Revy again, a single bead of sweat dripping down his nose.

"Last time I'll tell you, Rock." Revy looked like she was about to explode, her face as red as a freshly mined ruby.

Rock was still frozen like a Neanderthal. Revy opened her mouth to give her final warning.

"Get your hand off my chest, or I swear to God, I will fuckin' sodomise you with my Cutlass. It'll be loaded, and my finger will be twitching over the goddamned trigger."

The severity of both the threat and her voice kick started Rock's motor functions. "Oh, God!" He flew back a considerable distance, landing uncomfortably on more hard debris. "Ow! I'm sorry, Revy! I'm really sorry!"

Revy gradually sat up and straightened her top. "Shut up, Rock." she silently growled.

That was all that was needed to cease Rock's vocal chords. By now most of the remaining patrons had fled for their own safety. Only Bao and the members of Lagoon Company were left inside.

"Revy? Rock? Talk to me!" Dutch called out from behind the bar, making the wise decision of keeping in cover

"I…I'm okay…" Rock slowly stood up, grasping the back of his head. "Ouch" He looked down at his left hand once more. Upon remembering where it had been, he quickly brought it back down by his side.

"Yeah, we're good…Jesus…" Revy made her way over to Dutch and Benny. At the other end of the bar, Bao was once again holding onto his trademark shotgun. He looked back towards Revy, making his anger clear.

"Revy…" he growled through his teeth. Revy pointed a finger back at Bao.

"Hey! Don't think I had anything to do with this shit! How was I supposed to know a car was gonna do a fuckin' suicide roll through you're front door? Fuck you Bao!"

"Fine! But you still owe me for the drinks!"

"That's Dutch's job" Revy waved off the remark.

Rock walked behind Revy, still holding the back of his head. Revy's eyes seemed to follow Rock's body as he moved. "Damn, my ears are still ring-"

All of a sudden, a large volley of machine gun fire rained into the bar from outside. The three Colombian Mercedes' had parked outside after the crash, and were determined to terminate the inhabitants of the BMW with extreme prejudice.

Rock dived for the deck, landing on Dutch's foot. Dutch let out a small groan as his toes took most of the impact.

"Thanks, Rock, but you ain't gonna get an Oscar for that stunt!" Dutch brandished his S&W 629, breaching the chamber to check it was loaded.

Rock was now propping himself up, "Sorry!" was the best response he could think of.

The bullets penetrated through anything and everything they could hit, ricocheting at multiple angles. The visible side of the BMW was soon beginning to look like a cheese grater. The rounds that made their way to the bar bounced off like stones hitting a solid steel wall.

"Who the fuck are these guys? They've got some nerve shooting up a bar without warning!" Revy pulled back the slides of her 92FSs, ready to break cover and return fire.

"That's 'cause they're not after the bar. They want the people in that car dead! We've got nothing to do with it!" Dutch grabbed Revy by her shoulder and forced her to stay on the spot with his superior strength.

"Dutch! What the hell?" Revy placed a hand on Dutch's trying her best to pry it off.

More bullets shattered the bottles behind the bar, showering them with a mixture of liquor and glass.

"This is a third party hit! The Yellow Flag is just collateral in all this! If we sit tight, they'll be gone soon enough."

Revy's impatience was understandable, not once since she came to Roanapur had she been forced to stay out of a gunfight.

Dutch's intuition paid off, the gunfire abruptly halted and was accompanied by the sound of slamming doors and more screeching tires.

Both Revy and Rock stood up, Rock brushing the debris of his shirt. Revy, still keeping her Cutlasses primed, walked out low and slow into the chaotic aftermath.

Dutch gave a prompt warning, "Careful, you two."

As Revy moved away from the bar, she kept her sights glued on an arm that was hanging through the window from the back seat of the BMW; blood was slowly dripping from the three fingers that remained attached. She crouched to examine the interior, finding three bodies. The driver was lying motionless on what was once the roof of the vehicle; the arm she saw earlier belonged to José, whose body now resembled a colander, his body sprawled over the width of the roof. The third man was hanging halfway out of the window on the other side.

"They're all dead." Revy pointed out with a distinct lack of emotion. Rock had stayed behind Revy as she examined the car.

"Looks like the gas tank is intact. This thing shouldn't explode on us any time soon." Rock shouted back to Dutch and Benny.

Revy walked over to what remained of the front door, she strafed over to the right-hand corner, using the wall as potential cover.

"Benny, we'll take the back door and get the car. I don't want to have to handle Watsap when he gets here." Dutch nudged Benny with his shoulder.

"I agree" Benny promptly headed for the back door, followed closely by Dutch. Revy looked back to see the two men heading for the exit, she took a single step back, still keeping her pistols trained across the road.

Rock was still scanning around the room, briefly examining the bodies inside the BMW. That was when he saw it.

The driver was miraculously moving. As he turned over, his right arm folded out, and a small dark object rolled from his palm. After all his time around weapons, Rock immediately knew what the object was. The M67 Frag Grenade's polished body briefly reflected the ambient light back into Rock's eyes, making them widen in sheer terror.

Revy slowly slid one Cutlass back into its holster, she was beginning to realise the dissipation of the danger. When suddenly, she felt an extremely forceful push hit her square in the back, and what immediately followed...carnage.

The grenade's explosive was enough to rupture the gas tank of the BMW and ignite what remained inside it. The blast was deafening, and blew most of the debris inside the bar back out, taking some more pieces of the building's structure with it. It easily threw Revy out of the window, almost as if she were a leaf on the wind.

She landed on the road outside with a bone-cracking impact. The side of her face began to burn from the friction of landing. Her gloves were torn, and her knees and elbows were starting to bleed; she was, however, still alive.

Looking down at her left hand, she realised it was marinating in a pool of blood that was gradually growing; she brought it up to her face to examine it, but saw no cuts that could create that much damage. She felt like she'd lost the feeling in her legs; she tried moving them but had difficulty doing so. As she twisted to look behind her, she was struck with a horrifying sight.

Lying limp across the back of her legs; Rock had a large shard of metal protruding from the side of his abdomen, identifying itself as the cause of the blood pool. His face had multiple scratches from flying shrapnel, and his left index finger looked broken.

"ROCK!" Revy's scream overpowered the noise being created by the flames that now started to consume the Yellow Flag; it was enough to get Dutch and Benny's attention as they lifted themselves off the ground and started to run to the front of the bar.

Using what strength she could muster, Revy struggled as she shook Rock to bring him to consciousness. As she shook, she was able to free her legs from underneath him and kneel beside his body and continue shaking. With so much going through her head, she couldn't concentrate on how to handle the situation. Her voice began to crack and transform into the occasional whimper "Rock! Wake up you asshole! C'mon!"

No matter how much she shook, Rock remained in his corpse-like position with his eyelids glued shut.

"Dutch! Help me out!" Revy called out to her remaining teammates as they got closer to them, the desperation in her voice becoming cracked by her gasps for air.

"What the fuck happened?" Dutch knelt down next to Rock, placing his fingers onto his neck, trying to find an artery.

"I don't know! The bar just went up like a fuckin' A-bomb! But Rock was-" She immediately stopped herself mid sentence, remembering that Rock was last stood in the middle of the room.

"_There's no way he could survive an explosion at that distance!"_ she thought to herself.

"Rock was what?" Dutch was still trying his best to find a pulse on Rock. At the same time, Benny was applying pressure to the wound around the metal shard.

Revy suddenly remembered the sharp shunt she felt before the explosion. She may not have seen it, but Rock had instinctively run at full speed toward her, grabbing her as he tried to jump through the window she was stood in front of. Doing what he did had effectively saved her life.

"Oh my…" Revy looked down at the bloodied body of her 'buddy', still not able to believe that Rock could so such a thing "...you crazy son of a bitch!" She yelled at the motionless body, grabbing the shoulder of his shirt.

"Revy..." Dutch looked up at Revy after removing his hand from Rock's neck.

Revy looked up at Dutch, seeing only a perfect reflection of herself in his sunglasses. For a brief moment, neither of them said anything, this foreshadowed anything Dutch was about to say.

Revy clenched her jaw and grabbed Dutch's collar.

"He isn't…right? He's not!"

In the distance and closing fast, the ever-recognisable sound of sirens reached the ears of the three standing Lagoon Company members.

Revy bowed her head; waiting for Dutch to say the words she didn't want him to…

**I hope you enjoyed the introduction to this new Fanfic! It's my first one so excuse any things that may seem amateurish and whatnot.**

**This took me the better part of 3 days to write. I'm okay with how it turned out, but I'll leave the reviews down to you!**

**If you're curious about what happened to Bao at the end...he escaped. I was wondering how he got out of the grenade incident with Roberta in the first anime season, so I thought I'd pull that trick again here.**

**UPDATE: I decided to call this 'Chapter 2' for the sake of continuity. 'Intro Part 2' is just the name of the chapter.**


	3. The Question

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

**The Diary of an Ex Businessman**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 3 – 'The Question'**

The sun cleanly breached the high clouds as if to create a single spotlight that enveloped the city of Roanapur. The temperature was due to come to its peak soon as it was already 11am; fishing boats were heading back into the docks with their early morning net catches, street vendors stood in silent solace by their stalls for worry of making a racket and disturbing nearby gang members, and people were already making their way toward Rowan's GoofFest strip club to get their pre-drink kicks. Despite being a weekend, the streets were still calm; a lot of people were either sleeping off hangovers, or sleeping with the fishes, depending on the events that occurred the previous night. In an obvious up keeping with basic criminal activity, nightfall was the time for excitement and action, too much of which would usually result in a literal hole in the head. That was the reputation the city chose for itself, and the people who came from far and wide loved it because of that.

A small group of rag-tag misfits-turned-mariners now called this city home, Lagoon Company was their name, and the Black Lagoon was their prized – and well-armoured - PT boat. Their office came in the form of a warehouse attached to a small docking pier by the water's edge. This was its second incarnation, as it had been burned down in a merciless attack by numerous bounty hunters mere months before. The layout was simple; a single office was the primary hub connecting to the streets that lead to the city, the dock and the sleeping quarters.

Inside, Dutch was engaged in conversation with a woman over the phone. A few metres away sat Benny, who was using the computer to run diagnostic checks on the ship's navigational equipment. It had been fuzzing up lately, so he took no time in trying to identify the cause.

"So you're sending her over?" Dutch enquired into the mouthpiece.

On the other side of the city, a well-dressed woman smoking a cigar was sat behind a desk situated in an immensely decorated room. She had long blonde hair spanning down her back, and her figure was slim; but it was not her body that made her stand out. Across the right side of her face spanning from her jaw line up to her forehead, a large burn mark culminating in a scar enveloped her features.

Balalaika was reclining in her chair, trying to savour every drag she took from the burning tobacco that rolled across her lips. Her free hand supported a cell phone by her ear.

"Yes. She said she should be there in an hour. It's the least I could do, I owed Rock a favour for his work in Japan."

"I'm grateful for the support you've given us so far. We'll be here if you need anything, but Hotel Moscow already has everything it needs, right?" Dutch smiled.

"For you, Dutch, it's my pleasure." Balalaika ignored the joke, wishing to stick to straight conversation.

"Any updates on who shot up the Flag?" Dutch pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose.

Balalaika calmly exhaled her drag. "Unfortunately, witnesses to the incident have been scarce. There have been whispers about a drug smuggling ring out of South America that didn't take too lightly to some small-time wannabes deciding to sell their own product without their knowing about it, though none of it is conclusive. I'm sorry to say that the possibility of finding solid leads is getting slimmer by the day."

Dutch hummed "It's not a problem. It's better if Revy doesn't catch any wind of this. If she went chasing every single rumour that sprung up, half of Roanapur would be corpse-ridden streets by now."

Balalaika rolled her eyes. "So I presume she didn't take it too well."

"Let's put it this way: If Two-Hands doesn't say a word for two days straight, Whitman is bursting to get out and cap somebody."

"For someone of her headstrong nature, I was expecting her to handle it more professionally. Maybe it's that time of the month."

"Only she knows." Dutch sighed as he shook his head.

Looking at her watch, Balalaika sighed, "I'm afraid that I must cut this short. I have a meeting with Chang in half an hour." Balalaika stood up from the desk and began to walk to the door of her office.  
"We'll have a job for you soon, unless you're going to struggle with only three people?"

Dutch momentarily paused. "We'll be fine. We managed to survive before Rock came along, and I'm pretty sure we'll survive now."

"Very well. Stay safe, Dutch" With a flick of a finger, the cell phone closed with am accompanying snap.

Dutch placed the phone back on its wall bracket, sliding his hands into his pockets as he turned towards Benny.

"She's coming down here in about an hour."

Benny's hands stopped typing, he stared blankly at the screen. "Thanks for the heads up." He began to type again. "I'll head out and buy some snacks before she arrives."

"Going to offer her a meal Benny boy? Are we getting a soft spot for the girl?" Dutch mocked as he walked over and poked Benny in the shoulder blade.

"No, I just don't like to be near the psycho. It's nothing personal, but that thing around her neck freaks me the hell out. Not to mention the way it sounds too." Benny's eyes never left the screen as he spoke, his hands flittering across the keyboard as if they had a life of their own.

"You'll learn to live with it, just like life in this city."

"I won't complain with that 'oh wise one'" He smiled to indicate the joke.

* * *

Atop a grassy hill overlooking downtown Roanapur, a single blossoming Oak tree gave a perfect covering of shade to the casket that lay sealed and untarnished on a low lying table by its buttressed roots, the gentle breeze showering it with the leaves that could not hold on to the branches above. A lone figure walked barefoot through the long grass leading up to the peak, occasionally stopping through a subconscious hesitation. The figure's hair flapped over one shoulder as it caught in the breeze, while the sun spectacularly illuminated the white knee-length blouse that she wore.

Revy slowly approached the tree, stopping to sample the senses she felt as her partially muddied feet brushed through the soft grass, and her hair lightly bashed against the smooth skin of her cheeks. But something still didn't feel right; she knew something was wrong, her head was telling her so.

_"Has it taken this much to realise?"_ a voice echoed over the other side of the hill. Her eyes widened as her feet rejected any order from her brain to move, she was rooted to the ground like the tree in front of her and her legs would no longer respond. She struggled, but nothing was budging.

_"What's wrong?"_ the voice enquired with a scornful and condescending tone. _"Did you not think it would happen sooner or later?"_

She looked down to her stomach as a red patch began to soak through the fabric at an incredible speed, soiling the beauty of the garment. "It should have been me", she whispered as she gazed towards the ground, her eyes turning to a look of anguish. Placing her hand over the centre of the stain, she looked back at the roots of the Oak; the casket was no longer in sight.

"Are you sure?" The same voice suddenly emanated from behind her. At last her legs responded, turning her around like a spinning top. Her face lifted, as Rock was stood before her in full-bodied form wearing his standard business attire of shirt and tie.

"Don't think you hold the solutions to everything, Revy. There will always be circumstances that nobody can foresee or control. Besides, you wanted this didn't you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Revy rasped as she tried to move towards him, but once again her feet had magnetised themselves to the ground. "Why would I want this?"

Rock smiled "All those threats you made, all those times you aimed your gun at me, and you're saying you never wished me dead? Your lies are as false as your graciousness!" Behind Rock, there was massive explosion, a large piece of shrapnel penetrating him through the stomach. He lurched forwards, but kept control of his footing. No blood was seeping from the wound; his face showed no pain, but instead displayed an eerily large grin as he looked back up.

The sight horrified her, she wanted to run in the other direction, but her feet began to sink into a pool of blood that had formed beneath her. Fighting to keep her balance, she continued on until her ankles became submerged.

"You can't come to that conclusion by yourself goddamn it!" she cried out towards the man before her.

"Why not?" Rock's forehead began to bleed, a single red line treacling its way past his eye and down his cheek. "Are you saying it's not true?"

"N…" she tried to speak through clenched teeth, her strained breathing stopping her from completing her words. She struggled against a constricting feeling in her chest, her eyes closed as if to display the pain. She could feel tears welling up behind her shut eyelids as they began to leak through onto her cheeks.

"Not anymore!" her cry echoed across the face of the hill. Rock looked genuinely surprised. "I hated myself for inviting you onto the crew after you arrived! You reminded me too much of the world I despised, the world that betrayed me so many fucking times! But something changed along the way…" she clasped her ribcage, the strain felt like a closing vice around her heart.

"You can say it…" the blood on Rock's jeering face began to reverse its travel and run back up into the invisible wound it once came from.

"We…" she abruptly stopped, trying to reconstruct her wording.

"I want you to live! If you leave, you'll be another betrayal in my life! I'll never forgive you for that!" the tears began to run along her jaw line and fall from the tip of her chin. "Dying…isn't an option…that I'll give you the pleasure…of taking…" her voice began to weaken as she lost consciousness; she could no longer feel her body as she fell forwards towards the ground.

* * *

Revy's eyes snapped open, her eyelashes battering away the layer of matted hair that lay in front of them. She was huddled in a contorted fetal position on the floor of the room, the chair behind her lying on its side from where she'd fallen off during the night. Dazed and confused, she quickly brought her head up; she began to regret it, as the blood in her arteries couldn't catch up with the change in gravitational orientation. Her eyesight quickly fizzled before returning to normal as she righted herself into a sitting position on the floor.

She stared at the small patch of sweat her head had left on the ground, running the events of the dream through her head.

_"What the fuck am I thinking? What the hell is going on in your head you crazy bitch?"_

"What's happening in here?" She groaned as she proceeded to repeatedly slap her palm across her forehead. As she closed her eyes to try and collect her thoughts, a very light moan could be heard from behind her.

"Did…you drink too much…last night?" a wheezed laugh followed the question. Revy instantly froze; this was the last thing she had expected to happen. She turned around to look at the man lying in her bed, bringing her hand down to rest on her thigh. He had his head turned towards her, the bed sheet covering him up to his waist.

"So, you're finally awake now?" Revy tried her best to not make eye contact with the man. She was embarrassed, but knew that she had to confront him sooner or later.

"Yeah…" the man only had enough breath to speak a small number of syllables at a time "…I'll be okay…but I still feel really weak…"

Revy finally stood up and walked to within 3 metres of the bed, picking up the chair and placing it by the bedside.

"That's because you haven't eaten since before the explosion." Revy slid one of her Cutlasses out of its shoulder holster. She pulled back the slide and locked it into place, examining the chamber and the barrel entrance.

"How long ago…was that?"

"Well, to put it in simple terms that you'll understand: you've been out for three weeks." Her attention never left the pistol in front of her; she began to slowly caress the barrel with the fingers of her free hand. "It was enough time to find this…"

Moving her hand down to the desk in front of her whilst weaving through the multiple gun barrels that stuck out from a nearby cardboard box, she grasped her digits around a thick book. It was black, with roughly half of the pages tattered, and it had a look that was very similar to a bible. She brought the book up to her eyes, and threw it onto a free space on the bed.

"…And do a bit of 'light reading'." She moved her hand into her pocket and pulled out a single 9mm cartridge. She brought it up to the slivers of morning light that breached the window blinds, examining the curvature of the casing and the embossed wording surrounding the primer.

"So, 'Mister Rokuro Okajima'…"

Rock was lying on his back, the layer of sweat saturating his upper torso gleaming as the sunlight came into contact with it, giving him a diamond-esque shine. His midriff was heavily bandaged, with the occasional layer running over one of his shoulders and down his back; there was still a fist-sized bloodstain from where the shrapnel had punctured him. The fingers on his left hand was splinted to restrict movement and allow faster healing while his cheek had a band-aid stuck to it.

His eyes were glued in shock to the book that lay inches from his left leg, his eyebrows began to mildly twitch. He looked back up at Revy, his disbelief apparent from his eyes. "You read it all."

The statement was straightforward. There was no point in asking, Rock knew that anything Revy found would be examined to the tiniest detail; she did the same with any new gun she picked up, so why not a seemingly ordinary book? He had no doubt that she had read it from cover to cover, including every blank page as well. "Sure did…" she placed the round rolling through her fingers into the chamber and disengaged the lock. The slide slammed forward with a large metallic thunking noise. "...You bastard", she quietly murmured. Without any second thoughts, she swung the barrel round to aim straight at Rock's forehead, pulling the hammer back with her thumb.

Rock didn't even flinch; he'd known enough times how it felt to have a gun in his face. And in being honest to himself, he felt that it was getting really boring and tedious.

"About the last sentence you put in it…" Revy took the few steps that were required to be stood beside the bed. She continued to hold the Cutlass at arms length, but was now looking almost vertically downward into Rock's eyes.

Rock could only stare back up at her until he saw something twitch in his field of vision. He swivelled his eyes towards the gun that was almost brushing the sweat on his forehead.

It was shaking. Revy's hand - which he always knew to be still as that of a corpse when it came to aiming - was shaking.

"Revy-"

"Why didn't you fuckin' tell me?" She hissed through her clenched jaws. Her eyes were reddening and her teeth began to grind. The heaviness of the breathing through her nostrils added even more tension to her psychotic look. Rock had never seen such lethal sincerity in his life; he started to truly fear for his safety, grasping onto a part of the sheet near his right leg. It would be ironic for him to survive a life-threatening injury, only to be shot point blank between the eyes by a friend.

"Revy, plea-"

"Why didn't…!" Without warning, Revy lunged her left hand at Rock's neck, her fingers moulded in some form of a knife-hand position.

_"So this is it…"_ Rock's mind was willing to accept its demise as the hand came closer by the nanosecond.

However, her fingers went straight past him, hooking themselves around the base of his neck and briefly jerking his head up.

The pain that followed was sharp yet brief, and quickly evaporated as Rock opened his eyes to the sight of Revy's face being mere inches from his own once again. The Cutlass was still trained towards his brain, but his attention was now focussed solely on the teary eyes that bore into him.

_"Is she…?"_ He didn't want to finish the thought even while it was fresh in his head; he scorned himself for thinking something so stupid, and yet the visible proof was staring him in the face…Revy was crying.

The gun was now shaking more violently, and the pockets of fluid brimming along the top of her lower eyelids were beginning to swell. She opened her mouth to speak, but a scream did not come. Her voice had suddenly turned back into a cracked whisper.

"Why didn't you tell me, you prick?" she demanded once more "Why…didn't you…just…tell me?"

Rock made sure to pick his next words with extreme caution; otherwise they could very well be his last…

* * *

**AN: This chapter might not make much sense since it's a three-week flash-forward. The next chapter and onward is a flashback through those 3 weeks.**

**Also, even from an author's standpoint it looks like Revy is quite OOC what with her actions in both her dream and in her encounter with Rock. The story form now on will explain the change in her.**


	4. A Long Night

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

**The Diary of an Ex Businessman**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 4 – 'A Long Night'**

The ambience inside the Hotel Moscow HQ was contagiously calming, much to the extent that soldiers were staggering from an involuntary desire to sleep, but discipline soon struck in as they began to occupy their minds by mumbling long forgotten folk songs under their breath. The muffled chatter of people parading through the streets and the occasional gunshot passed through the open cracks in the windows, a constant reminder of the less-than-peaceful nightlife.

Balalaika was sat at her desk smoking yet another cigar, and across from her sat Boris, her second in command.

"So what news has there been of the Washimine clan after their matriarch's passing?"

Boris leant forward in his chair, resting his forearms across his thighs. "Intel has been lacking since the majority of the clan went underground. But the information we have received is leaving hints that they have all but disbanded. Since there is no longer a hierarchal bloodline for the clan to follow under, the Peace Council is less than likely to accept a new head without having severe talks for the next few months."

Balalaika hummed before inhaling more of the addicting smoke. Boris' pocket began to chirp, the vibration function of his cell phone giving him a tingly sensation on the side of his leg.

"Excuse me", he shifted his position to reach into his pocket. He examined the caller ID as he brought the phone up to his ear, "Yes?"

Balalaika kept her eyes focussed on Boris as his face transformed from unemotional to slightly puzzled. "I see. Hold the line a second." He brought the phone down and looked back at his superior, who raised her eyebrows as a sign of wishing to hear something.

"It's the Yellow Flag again." His tone displayed blatant annoyance.

Balalaika rolled her eyes and vocalised her next exhalation. "What now?" she asked as she tilted her head to one side, her non-cigar holding hand propping it up.

"Private Berlix is reporting that a car has gone through the entrance. It's lying inverted inside the building and has demolished approximately two-thirds of the front wall."

Balalaika scoffed "A car? Well, that's a new one. Let me, Sergeant." She extended a hand toward Boris, who promptly placed the phone in her palm. She brought the earpiece up to the side of her head.

"Go ahead, Private." Boris walked over to the window; he could see people flooding from around a street corner further down the road.

"Interesti-" as if in an interactive television show, the speaker in the phone erupted a massive burst of noise, forcing Balalaika to pull the phone away. At the same time, the floor shuddered as if a pneumatic drill were underneath it, as well as a low rumbling sound originating outside the window. Balalaika, still with the phone up to her ear, rapidly stood up and practically jogged to the window. Boris sidestepped to give her a full viewing position. From behind a long row of buildings, a small plume of dust and smoke steadily grew and grew.

"Private Berlix? Report!" Balalaika demanded with her usual commanding and authoritative voice. She could hear coughing and spluttering over the line, people were screaming in the distance. "Private!"

"Capitan…" the soldier coughed again "…the car just exploded! The bar is a wreck!"

"I need an assessment right now, Private. Casualties and a damage report."

"Flames are starting to engulf the building, and the structure doesn't look sturdy at all. I can confirm only one casualty at present. Repeat, one casualty from visual confirmation. Looks like one of the members of Lagoon Company." Balalaika's eyes shot open.

"Which one?"

* * *

"Don't say it you son of a bitch!" Revy still had hold of Dutch's collar, she felt like she wanted to punch him, hard.

"Just shut the fuck up, Revy!" Dutch knocked her hands away with relative ease. "He's alive! Are you happy?"

Her eyes shot open as far as they could upon hearing those two words. She couldn't help but be sure for herself, placing her fingers on Rock's neck. She felt the reassuring, but very faint, swell of his Carotid artery under her fingertips. She let out a gasp of relief, but enough so that only she knew she'd done it.

"But he won't be for long if you don't calm the fuck down and lend a hand!"

"Are you two gonna sit there in a damn spitting contest or help me out?" Benny's hands were tied up in putting pressure on Rock's back, trying to avoid moving the shard protruding from it.

The blood pool around them still looked relatively small, but the closer someone was, the worse it appeared. "We need to roll him over and see the damage", Dutch advised.

"You don't call THAT damage?!" Revy pointed at the blatantly obvious shard sticking out of Rock's flesh. "You can't see shit through those fuckin' glasses, can you Dutch?" Dutch ignored the question and grabbed the left side of Rock's body.

Revy helped by giving Rock a slight shunt, letting Dutch take most of the weight. Rock was now on his side, his midriff facing Revy, she didn't enjoy the sight that greeted her. The remainder of the shard was sticking out through his shirt; the red stain of coagulating blood was almost the size of his own head. Revy couldn't help but look towards his face, which had reddened from the shrapnel scratches, but it wasn't his skin tone that she noticed…he was smiling, at least as close to a smile as an unconscious person could be. His lips were vaguely raised at the edges, giving him an ironically peaceful look.

"Lagoon! Who's the casualty?" a voice called out from across the street and grew louder as it approached, it had a young but heavy Russian accent behind it.

Dutch and Benny looked up while Revy tore open Rock's shirt to examine the wound in detail. The man running toward them was relatively stumpy, with blonde hair and an incredibly square jaw.

"What's it to you?" Dutch yelled at him, still supporting Rock's weight.

"Hotel Moscow, the Capitan wants to know who it is!" he held up the phone in clear view so the two men could see it. Dutch wanted to take the phone, but realised he couldn't without letting Rock fall and both Benny and Revy were busy tending to the priority wound.

"Tell her it's Rock" Dutch instructed. The man turned his back to them, taking a few steps forward, and placed his cell phone back up to his ear. This time he spoke in Russian.

"What the hell's Balalaika got to do with this?" Revy demanded into the air in front of her, still examining the razor sharp barbs of the bloodied metal. Dutch overheard her, "Hotel Moscow owns the place, remember?"

The man flipped his phone closed and ran back to the group. He had to shout to be heard over the sound of licking flames and crumbling woodwork coming from inside the bar, "Listen carefully. We need to move him back down the road and around the corner!" he pointed back to the street corner that was almost 50 metres away. "The Capitan says there's a building nearby that we can use to help him!"

"Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" Revy spat back "If we move him he's gonna die!" The man took a step forward and knelt down, willingly ruining the pants of his suit in the blood that saturated the road.

"I've seen men recover from injuries worse than this in Afghanistan, Two-Hands. I can tell you from personal experience, that we can move him without many problems." He stared coldly into Revy's eyes, unwavering and carrying full sincerity.

"Revy, it's likely that he'll die if we don't get him out of here." Benny called out.

"Well I know what I'm doing! Let's go!" Dutch immediately cut in, he picked up Rock's limp figure in his arms, trying his best to keep the shard from touching anything, including his own body. The soldier, Private Berlix, led the way as they started to jog back down the road.

"The Capitan said she'd have everything ready when we get there!" he called back as they ran.

"And how long is that gonna be?" Revy demanded as she caught up next to him.

"About three minutes, we just need to cut down a side alley once we get round the corner." He pointed out the route with his finger, indicating the direction they would be roughly travelling.

Revy knew that answering questions wasn't the reason that Berlix had turned up, so she withheld the urge to keep probing. _"There'll be enough time to ask Fry-Face herself"_, she thought as they kept running.

Rock's head was bobbing about like a jack-in-the-box as Dutch's body lifted and dropped from every footstep. Benny noticed this and ran behind Dutch and round the other side of him in order to save Rock from further unintentional injury. Every impact against the hard tarmac added a new miniature puddle of red elixir behind them, almost like a trail of breadcrumbs from (funnily enough) Hansel and Gretel.

As they turned right heading back down the main road, a lone drunken gang member staggered into their path.

"Outta the way, asshole!" With no hesitation, Revy laid him out with a single right hook to the jaw, using her bodily momentum as the supporting force. The man flew back with the impact and landed hard on his side. Dutch swiftly strode over the man, who now lay contorted on the floor with some dislodged teeth surrounding his bleeding lips.

They continued on for another 20 metres, and Benny noticed Rock's mouth bleeding. The jerking movements of his head as Dutch ran were making him bite his tongue.

"Down here!" Berlix cut straight into an alley on the right, giving Dutch almost no time to react. He knew he had no room to finish the turn, so he quickly turned his back to the wall. He hit the brick surface hard, feeling Rock's body fly into him and narrowly avoiding scratching himself with the barbs of metal protruding from Rock's stomach.

"Fuck!" Dutch continued onward as his downed teammate lay dying in his arms. "Give us more of a warning next time! Rock's fading fast!"

* * *

Two figures dressed in total surgical coveralls along with accompanying tinted goggles were laying out an array of surgical implements in a faux-operating room. The white tiled floor and walls were caked with dried and coagulated blood, but the metal table in the middle of the room was almost totally spotless.

Upon hearing a rattling noise downstairs, the figure closest to the only door of the room made out a hand signal to their partner on the other side, pointing a thumb at the door. The second figure noticed the gesture and nodded in acknowledgement. The first person made their way to the door, hearing heavily muffled voices outside. As they opened the door, the sound of footsteps banging up the nearby staircase grew louder and louder, accompanied by further yelling. The figure walked into the corridor that joined to the staircase, and stood in waiting; the second person soon followed, standing behind their colleague with folded arms. Within seconds, both Berlix and Revy's heads were rising into view from the floor as they ascended the stairs at speed. The corridor was dark and musky, with a thin smell of rotten meat hanging in the air; it was only ten metres long by three wide, with two bare hanging light bulbs dangling from the ceiling.

Berlix made his way ahead of Revy to encounter the first of the two people. "Good, you're ready." The first figure only nodded once in reply.

Revy stopped at the eerie sight of these two unidentifiable figures looking towards them. Dutch was hot on her tail, sidestepping the last few steps in an attempt to stop Rock's legs or head from hitting the walls.

"Capitan wants this done smooth and by the book." Berlix pointed at Rock's wriggling body, keeping his attention focussed on the first person. "You screw up, she'll come down on you like Thor's fucking hammer."

The first figure nodded once more. It was only then that Revy noticed how short the first person was compared to both their partner and even Berlix.

Revy couldn't help the belief that she'd seen something, or someone, similar to this._ "Why am I having Déjà vu?"_

The 'surgeon' urged Dutch forward with a hand gesture, slowly but surely he complied following a less-than-reassuring nod from Berlix, and gently handed Rock over to the second figure, who was almost as tall and well built as himself. The person supported Rock's body with no effort at all, making it look as if it were a child's body they were carrying.

They both retreated into the room they had emerged from and began to close the door.

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going?" Revy followed them, quickly propping the door with her boot, but was pushed back by a single open, palm forward hand gesture from the smaller 'surgeon', who shook their head rapidly. She caught a brief glimpse of the blood splatters painting the walls in a vibrant mix of red and brown. She stood back at the horror of the view. Finally the door closed, and multiple metal-upon-metal clashes could be heard as various locks and bolts were engaged.

Berlix took a step back to address Revy. "Let them do their job Two-Hands", he insisted, "The Capitan hired them for late-night situations just like this one."

Revy turned to face Berlix in anger, "And just who the fuck is 'them'? Huh, Ivan?" She wrapped her fingers around Berlix's suit lapels and forced him against the wall behind him, the impact almost bending the thin supports behind the plaster. "How can we trust 'them'? We don't even know who the fuck 'they' are! How about keeping us in the loop you bastard!"

"Revy!" Dutch called out as he grabbed her right shoulder and pushed her off Berlix. "Will you calm the fuck down? If Balalaika hadn't told him to help, Rock would be fucked right now! So how about extending some goddamn courtesy?"

"That's easy for you to say! Have you seen the inside of that room, Dutch!?" Revy pointed at the closed door to her right, "You can't see the fuckin' walls for the dry blood that's splattered all over 'em! It's a motherfuckin' meat grinder behind that door!"

"That's just their job outside of working for us, Two-Hands. Originally they-" Berlix's phone began to ring; he cut himself off to prioritise the call. "Da?" he said as soon as the phone was up towards his ear.

Revy tore her eyes from Berlix; even the nearby air was becoming humid from the heat of her fury. "Holy shit…" she gasped, as she looked at both Dutch and Benny's clothing, they were almost totally soaked with Rock's blood, the only parts of them avoiding any kind of smearing were their backs, faces and shoulders.

She looked down and only just started to feel the stinging from her own injuries as her natural adrenaline wore off. The front of her shins were dark red from her bleeding knees, and her forearms were in roughly the same state due to her heavily grazed elbows. She brought her left hand up and remembered how it had laid in the pool outside the Yellow Flag. Even when she took her glove off, her hand was still dripping wet with Rock's essence of life.

"_A human body's only got ten pints of blood running through it. How many has Rock lost at the least so far? How many will he lose while he's in that room?"_ With all the facts of the human body's resilience running through her mind, Revy's optimism started to wear thin, as did her ability to stay awake.

As if to imitate a proper ER, the hallway had some chairs scattered along the walls. Finally realising that her legs were about to give in, Revy stumbled over to the nearest seat and collapsed into it.

Berlix ended the call and made his way over to Dutch. "The Capitan is on her way. She knows it's late, but she wants to talk."

Dutch, who had already sat down, silently crooked his head to look up at Berlix. "Do I look like I want to have a chat right now?" obviously hinting at the massive amounts of blood spread over his clothing.

"I'm afraid that's not my concern. She'll be here in five minutes." He nodded back in Revy's direction, "You might want to keep Two-Hands awake until then." Benny looked past Dutch and saw Revy sprawled out on the chair; her arms were limp at her side and her head was helplessly hanging forward.

"We would…" Benny shrugged his shoulders in clear defiance "…But neither of us wants to end up the same as Rock." He smiled, plainly making his point.

"As you wish", Berlix talked over his shoulder as he made his way back down the stairs. His footfalls died down as he made his way round the corner and to the door.

Dutch and Benny sat in silence as the atmosphere lay tense around them for a handful of seconds before cutting each other off with their own words.

"You first", Dutch gestured.

Benny scoffed, "'Kay. How sure are you that he's even gonna come out of this?"

Dutch looked down at his soiled vest and shirt, keeping his head still as he noisily sighed. He let his view return to Benny, who not only understood, but also shook his head with small and sharp movements.

"What a night…" Dutch murmured before pulling out the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. They were surprisingly untouched compared to the rest of his pocket lining; the box had taken most of the spoil. He kicked the pack up, letting some filters extend from the box lip, offering one to Benny after helping himself. Benny pulled one of the lightly speckled sticks from the pack, trying to keep his stained fingers from smearing over the filter; the taste of blood and tobacco was something he didn't want to discover.

Dutch looked over to his left, "Revy…" Even the boom in his low-toned voice was enough to lull her out of her slumber. She let out a groan that echoed through the hall, "What?" She felt a light thud in her lap. She looked down and saw the cigarette pack coupled with a lighter as they began to slip through the gap between her legs. She took no time in sliding one of the slim sticks out with her teeth and hurriedly igniting the end. With one deep breath, she immediately felt the relief of the nicotine that filled her lungs and began to seep into her blood vessels.

"That wasn't funny, you know…what you did back there." She spoke towards the wall across from her, intending for Dutch to overhear.

Dutch clamped his fingers over his already half depleted cigarette and exhaled, "I wanted to see your expression. It makes me wonder how you would have reacted if I told you he was dead."

"It's none of your damn business." Revy continued to look forward, maintaining her thousand-yard stare.

"Which brings me to something I've wanted to ask you for a while. Did anything happen between you two in Japan? You're not as hot-headed around him now as you used to be."

"I said it's none of your business, Dutch." Her voice was partially muffled as her lips moved themselves around the cigarette still pasted to them. "I'd ask you to keep your mouth sewn shut, but what good would it do?" her voice was low and dull with almost no emotion backing it.

"It's my duty as an employer to be aware of my worker's relations with each other. So I'll ask again, did anything happen in Japan that I should know about?" Dutch kept his eyes welded to Revy's nerve-dead face.

Revy fell silent for what even Dutch thought to be a considerable amount of time. Finally, she opened her mouth to respond.

"No." She blew out another plume of smoke.

Dutch's body sagged with disappointment, but he knew in his head that trying to push would be a waste of time and breath; Revy was just too stubborn to give up anything that she didn't want to be public knowledge. They sat in the comfort of silence from then on; everybody was too tired to bother striking up a decent conversation.

Even though the door to the 'surgical room' was bolted nice and shut, it was thin enough to let out even the sounds of a whisper. From under the door, there was a single loud clang of metal on metal; this caught the ears of the Lagoon Company crew. Revy stood up, but felt the harsh stinging of her shredded knees forcing her to sit back down.

"That sounds like the bonesaw being prepared." Revy sarcastically bawled.

From the bottom of the staircase, they trio could heed the footfalls of high-heels click-clacking on the steps. They were growing louder and louder by the second. Their suspicions were confirmed as Balalaika completed the flight and stood tall with her military broad coat sprawled over her shoulders and cigar in hand.

"Now why say such a thing, Two-Hands?" she mockingly pouted towards Revy. "Do you not trust the good doctors?"

"Believe me, 'sweetheart'" Revy emphasised a patronising tone into the last word, "By the look of those two circus freaks, I'm not expecting Rock to come out of there with his ass intact. If you screwed us –"

"You'll do what?" Balalaika cut in, immediately becoming serious now that a potential threat had been mouthed off. "Don't go making this confrontational in order to feed your habit, my dear; unless you'd like him thrown back outside to bleed to death in the gutter. You could join him as well if you so wish."

Revy growled, but stood down under the pressure of Balalaika's authoritative comeback. Both Boris and Berlix had made their way up the staircase and adopted an escorting position on either side of their commander.

Balalaika turned her head in Berlix's direction. "Good job, Private. You are now relieved."

"Yes ma'am." Berlix stood to attention, bringing his heels together and saluting towards her. He turned on the spot and slowly made his way back towards the door.

"So what's the deal here Balalaika?" Dutch didn't stand; his legs were refusing to budge.

She spoke with a calm but commanding tone, "It's very easy to comprehend, Dutch. I am told that the Yellow Flag has been burnt to a cinder…" she audibly sighed out of annoyance "…again, and that poor little Rock is in mortal peril because of it. Naturally, I couldn't have my favourite delivery service turning down future jobs because of emotional trauma sustained from the death of a comrade. Consider this a helping hand from a business perspective."

"So then what the hell is this abattoir all about?" Revy jerked her head in the direction of the door she was now sat next to.

"We had this room upgraded for situations much like Rock's. A few years back there was an incident from which one of our comrades never recovered. As much as we tried to give him medical assistance there and then, his wounds were too much for him to handle."

"So this is basically Hotel Moscow's own reserved emergency room?" Benny remarked.

"Only when we have dire need for it." She turned to face Revy, "The thing that amuses me about your branding of this facility, Two-Hands, is that it is not so far from the truth." Balalaika sadistically chuckled, taking in more of her cigar as she walked over to the woman sat before her. Revy stared back with eyes that bore straight into Balalaika's, eager to get answers.

"And just what the hell does that mean?" she demanded.

Balalaika blew her smoke straight into Revy's face. "The U.G. Pork company is, very fittingly, a meat packing business. They also do the occasional slaughterhouse jobs on the side, mostly for the Triad. So who knows what could happen? Maybe Rock will be in your next hamburger." She took another drag.

Revy snarled, even if the remark was just a joke.

"I don't seem to be getting through to you at all, what a waste of air." She turned back to Dutch, taking a few steps in his direction.

"I wouldn't worry about a thing, Dutch. The two people my subordinate introduced you to are under the temporary employ of Hotel Moscow, they happen to have substantial knowledge about human anatomy and have done some jobs for us quite recently."

"That's 'cause they know which parts to cut into fillet steaks." Revy grumbled loudly.

Balalaika let out a sigh of exasperation and looked at Boris. "Sergeant, please escort Two-Hands back to the Lagoon Company office. I have no patience to deal with immature little girls at the moment."

"Yes, Capitan" Boris took one step towards Revy, but stood firm as she pulled one of her Berettas on him. He instinctively mirrored the action, equipping his own pistol and aiming right toward the centre of her brow.

"Goddamn it…" Dutch mumbled, letting his head fall into the palm of his hand.

Despite the pain engulfing her elbow and forearm, Revy kept her aim dead still, ready to put the first bullet through Boris' mouth. "I ain't leavin' this building 'til we know that Rock's safe. We're still a team in this, so we don't leave a man behind. Does that remind you of anybody, 'Capitan'?" She added a thick pseudo-Russian accent to the last word.

The corridor remained totally silent bar the rustling of clothing coming from Benny's anxious in-seat shifting.

Balalaika brought her cigar up to her lips. "Huh…you actually created a valid argument for once. Dutch?" She looked back over to the man as she took in yet another breath, the burning tip edging closer to the fingers that grasped it, the spent ashes fell loose and were brushed away helplessly over the freely-swinging long coat sleeves.

Dutch's head was now resting in both of his hands. After a brief pause, he finally shifted his gaze back up to the woman stood across the hall from him. "It feels weird to admit it, but Revy's got the right idea. We left the office together, and I think it's only right we return to it together… either that or with one missing." He quickly added the last part to account for the fact that he still believed Rock might not make it. "We'll wait here until Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde give us the verdict."

Slowly but surely Revy lowered her Cutlass, sliding it back into her shoulder holster; Boris did the same, placing his own weapon back inside his suit jacket.

"I admire your perseverance. Very well, I have ordered them to notify me when they are done, regardless of success or failure. As soon as I get word from them I will make my way back down here with haste."

"We won't be moving from here. I appreciate the help." Dutch spoke in thanks.

"See you soon" the tail of the long coat almost slapped Dutch across the face as Balalaika swung round and headed back down the staircase with Boris on her heels.

"So the waiting game begins." Benny sighed as he stretched himself out over the chair he was sat in.

And wait is what they did; the trio stayed true to their word and didn't leave the U.G. Pork building except for the odd necessities. Benny headed back to the blackened and toasted remains of the Yellow Flag to fetch the car, which had a few scratch marks from where flying debris had bounced off the side panelling. On occasion, Dutch would leave to grab some takeaways and drinks for them to consume, as they stayed glued to the chairs that they now almost considered a second bed.

Revy was truly exhausted from the whole ordeal, and as a result never left the building to see the sun on another bright and bustling weekend in Roanapur; in fact, her overtiredness was stronger than even she first anticipated, because she still hadn't woken up by 8:00pm on that Saturday night. Dutch and Benny would check up on her every so often, waking her up to get her to eat. In the mean time, Balalaika had sent more of her troops round with first aid to deal with their own minor injuries. By 9:00pm, Dutch had finally asked Benny to go back to the office to retrieve some fresh clothing, the stickiness and smell of the dried blood was finally starting to get nauseating.

Throughout the entire day, the door had remained dead bolted and Balalaika still hadn't returned…

_"We've been left out to dry…"_ was one of the many pessimistic statements Revy's mind had told herself in her sleep.

* * *

**10:47pm**

Revy finally forced her eyelids open to the sound of the familiar footfalls of high-heels ascending the staircase, the dried and crusted tears that lay at the corners of her eyes caused some slight discomfort before she brushed them away with her finger. She took time to adjust her vision, as she had barely used it all day. She looked over and could make out the figures of Dutch and Benny sat by the staircase, and eventually focussed her attention on the familiar suit and long coat of Balalaika as she walked straight past Dutch and Benny and hammered a fist against the door.

Dutch was fully aware of Balalaika's appearance. "So, do we need to start funeral arrangements?"

Balalaika ignored them as one by one the bolts behind the door were disengaged with more audible clanging and grinding sounds. The door creaked open, like a scene reminiscent of a horror movie, and she sped through the doorway, having the answerer quickly shut it behind her.

"Thanks for the update, tight-lipped bitch." Revy defiantly mumbled. Dutch and Benny finally stood up and made their way to the wall across from the door. Against the stinging that still hung in her knees, Revy got off her own chair to lean against the wall next to Benny. They stood there in stillness, waiting for the news. Minutes later, the door finally opened once more. It was then that Dutch and Benny finally saw the scene that Revy had described as they took Rock in, the patterns of arterial spray covering almost every single piece of white that lay in view.

Revy, however, reacted at a different sight, swiftly equipping both Cutlasses and aiming straight at the person who stood next to Balalaika as they both emerged from the room. "You!"

The shorter of the two surgeons was now stood before them wearing a bloodied apron, the hat, mask and glasses were gone and the features presented to Revy made her instantly recall where she'd seen the face before. The distinct pink hair and sneering eyes of Frederica Sawyer, a.k.a. 'Sawyer the Cleaner', were attributes that Revy would not forget any time soon.

"Did we miss something?" Dutch enquired as he looked at Sawyer.

Balalaika cut in, "It seems Two-Hands still has hard feelings against poor little Sawyer here. But her anger is justified, she was amongst the party that burned down your office not too long ago."

Dutch didn't say a word; whereas Benny took a step away as those psychotic eyes began to take effect on him.

"Dutch, this crazy bitch has a chainsaw that's almost the same size as her own body, and she tried to cut Rock into little chunks with it." Revy spoke slowly and clearly, trying to emphasise the threat that the woman across from them presented, despite her size.

Finally, Sawyer spoke, bringing her Ultravoice up to her throat. "It was a job I was being paid to do. Money means everything in this town. Speaking of which, I'm being paid to help your friend out."

Balalaika nodded, "Indeed. You'll be happy to know that Rock's lying inside, alive and well, but very much unconcious. It's truly amazing how resilient the human body can be."

Revy lowered her Cutlasses and shifted her gaze between the eyes of Balalaika and Sawyer. "So he's still alive? That's some miracle, since Sweeney Todd here was the one cutting him open." She obviously pointed out Sawyer.

"I may be good at dismembering bodies," Sawyer's Ultravoice bellowed in the spine-chilling monotone, "but medical school taught me everything I know about them. I was going to be a doctor before this happened, you know." She ran her index finger across her neck in a slashing motion, tracing it almost perfectly over her actual scar.

Dutch hummed. "So what happens now?" he asked towards Sawyer.

"He's extremely fragile right now, so he needs to sleep for the moment. He'll wake up when his body is ready, but that won't be for a few weeks." Sawyer turned to face Balalaika, "I can't have him taking up space in my work area, so he'll have to be moved out soon."

Benny interceded, "We can take him back with us. Our car's parked outside, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Sawyer's medical knowledge set the rules, "Out of the question. He needs to stay reclined on a stretcher or a bed for the duration of his recovery; otherwise you put him at risk."

"Great." Revy muttered. "How the hell do we get his ass back to the office then?"

"I've already arranged that." Balalaika spoke with an amused and gentle tone.

Revy holstered her cutlasses once more, waiting to hear the explanation.

* * *

**11:03pm**

The main road was almost completely empty, but both sidewalks on either side were still crowded with gangsters looking for a good way in which to throw away their cash.

A single black van cruised at a gentle speed down the slanted hilly sections; the driver was trying his best to keep the ride as soft as possible.

"A fuckin' van…" Revy spluttered as she lit up another cigarette right above Rock's unconscious body. He was lying on a stretcher that rested along the flat floor of the van.

"You should put that thing out Revy." Benny advised to the woman sat next to him. "It's not good to smoke around a patient."

Revy pulled the cigarette away from her lips. "Oh I'm sorry." She sarcastically remarked. "Should I not light up around a guy who also happens to smoke? If it were me lying down there, I'd be damn happy to get some of the second-hand stuff."

Benny gave up; Revy was just too stubborn a person to keep up an argument with.

The van began to brake early as they gradually approached the Lagoon Company office. As soon as they felt the van judder to a stop, Revy and Benny jumped out of the double doors at the back and got ready to lift Rock's stretcher. Dutch took position by Rock's head and gave the count for them to lift, all collaborating to take his weight evenly and balance him.

Almost as soon as the team had disembarked, the driver got out to close the doors behind them, and immediately made his way back to the cabin to drive off and leave them to their own devices.

"Asshole" Revy mumbled as her eyes tracked the van as it left.

Trying to keep Rock level as the crew climbed the stairs was harder than they expected. Dutch had almost tripped on one step, and Benny nearly let go of the stretcher arm he was holding on to, the lack of lighting due to the night made it twice as difficult to keep orientation. Aside from the odd shakes and close calls, they had eventually got Rock upstairs, through the front door and over into Revy's room, which she voluntarily offered. The act of good faith itself was enough to make Dutch feel suspicious, but he didn't want to return to the Japan topic for fear of having holes put in him.

They gently placed Rock on the ground inside Revy's room and contemplated on how to get him from the floor and into the bed.

"We'll just have to lift him on our own." Dutch conceded. "Revy, you grab his legs, I'll take his shoulders. And Benny, you support his back when we've lifted him, alright?"

Benny nodded, "Got it."

They all crouched down, ready to take his weight again. Dutch placed his arms underneath Rock's armpits, and Revy wrapped her arms around his thighs; Benny had his hands out, ready to slide them under Rock's back. With another three-count by Dutch, they lifted their teammate up slowly and gently.

Revy grunted at the weight pressing down on her arms, "Jesus Christ! What the fuck has he been eating?"

They rapidly shuffled their feet to turn him so he would lay long ways on the mattress. Little by little, they lowered him down onto the bed, holding their breath in order to steady themselves. After what felt like an eternity, they allowed the bed to take Rock's weight and carefully slid their arms out from underneath him, they took a moment to shuffle him into a position that looked comfortable, they all sighed in relief.

Dutch remembered the instructions that Sawyer had given them before they set off, so he walked over to the nearby cupboard and pulled out a vacant metal coat hangar, twisting it so it was hooked at both ends.

As he slipped one end into a bullet hole that was positioned just above Rock's head, he called over to Benny. "Benny, grab the IV bag."

Benny threw back the sheet that covered Rock's heavily bandaged torso, taped on to his chest was a small plastic pouch holding a transparent fluid. Benny quickly removed it and handed it over to Dutch. Dutch let Benny place it on his open palm; trying his best not to squeeze the bag too hard, he grasped the end and slotted the other improvised hook of the coat hangar through another hole in the bag. After a quick tug to make sure the hangar would hold the weight, he let the bag hang freely. The tube that sprouted from the bottom of it made a long and swerving path towards Rock's elbow, where the intravenous fluid was being supplied straight into his blood stream via the median cubital vein, supplying him with necessary fluids and nutrients.

Dutch's lungs ejected his held breath with force. "Okay, Rock, getting better is up to you now. As for myself…" he adjusted his sunglasses as he headed for the door, "…I need a beer."

Benny promptly followed, "I'm in on that" he laughed out of exhaustion.

Revy slumped onto the bed and threw the sheet back over Rock, but not before examining his upper body. She was surprised to see how toned he was, his chest muscles were well highlighted by the light bulb hanging from the ceiling. She shook the image off and headed for the door.

She stopped as she placed her hand over the handle and turned back to see her buddy in such a helpless position; that was when she noticed the half-open draw on the side of the desk. She walked over to it with suspicion and looked down into the gap. A thick black book was the only object occupying the space; there was nothing written on the cover and the pages looked slightly tattered.

_"Why is there a book in here? I don't own any books…do I?"_

Cautiously, she reached down with her left hand and pulled the book out through the gap. She flipped it over in her hand, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

"_Oh, God. It's not my tab to Bao is it?" _She disregarded the thought, mainly because not even Bao knew how much Revy owed him anymore.

Finally, her curiosity took control of her fingers. She flipped the cover to see a blank first page except for the letters "_RO_" in the top right-hand corner.

The inside cover was also totally blank, so she continued and flicked over onto the next page, which was a completely different story. The pages were lined, and were absolutely covered in writing. Paragraph after paragraph consumed the double page, leaving almost no room for anything else, which made Revy quickly flick all the pages over like a flipbook. Every single double page layout was full of writing until just past half way, where the pages finally returned to a completely blank state.

"_RO_?" she whispered to herself as she looked back at the first page. She briefly fell silent to think about the lettering, and suddenly her eyes shot open. She slowly turned her head over to Rock, who still lay there, completely comatose and none the wiser.

"What little secrets have you been keeping from us then?" Revy mischievously grinned, ejecting a small snigger.

She turned back to the first full page and began to read from the first line:

_"My name is Rokuro Okajima, and I am a Japanese businessman in the employ of Asahi Industries."_

What Revy didn't know, was that she'd just opened a book that would change her view of Rock...forever.

* * *

**AN: Finally the chapter's finished. So there we go, you now know how Rock escaped certain death, at least in a relatively plausible way. And now it starts, the next chapter begins Revy's full journey into Rock's inner perspective of her world.**

**Please review, as it will determine how fast I release the next installment! **


	5. My Name Is Rock

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

**The Diary of an Ex Businessman**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 5 – 'My Name Is Rock'**

_"My name is Rokuro Okajima, and I'm a Japanese businessman in the employ of Asahi Industries"._

Revy repeated the sentence in a masculine tone with a classy accent, humouring herself by mocking the injured and unconscious Rock who lay only four metres away. Still stood by the door, she looked over at him with a cheesy cheek-to-cheek grin.

"And now look at you", she scoffed as she pulled out the chair by the desk, keeping the book open with her left hand. She spun the chair round to face Rock and slumped into it, causing the joints to creak as they took her weight.

"Graduating from a…" she began to murmur the words aloud to herself as her eyes skimmed over his minutely smudged handwriting.

_"Graduating from a national university, I somehow managed to make my way into the corporate world. I got my ass kicked by my boss all day; at the same time, I aimed to be in his place at some point in the future. It was the only way you could maintain your sanity in that place. I once lived in the city of winter, but now it all seems so far away, since it's been traded for the sunny temperature and cool breeze of the South China Sea."_

"'City of winter'?" she looked up at Rock with her eyebrows arched and one corner of her upper lip suspended. "I sure hope to God you ain't a poet in your spare time, 'cause I'm not someone who reads this girly crap." She tilted her head back down to the book.

_"I was given the task of transporting a disc to a department chief in Borneo. I don't know why, but they sent me by boat; was flying so hard to contemplate? Anyway, those would eventually turn out to be my last days as a legitimate salary man. At about halfway, we encountered a small, but very fast and manoeuvrable boat. They blocked our path and forced us to a stop, and we were soon boarded by two pirates, but they didn't look like much. However, they had control since they had the guns (at the time I thought they were big guns, but I had much to learn) and the ferocity to match. Before I knew it, I was singled out - and subsequently laid out - by the bigger of the two, a tall and burly American man who was referred to as 'Dutch' by his companion, an Asian looking woman who also talked with an American accent. She looked about my age, maybe a year or so younger, with quite an athletic figure if I might say so."_

"Pervert" was all Revy had to say to that.

_"She seemed the more trigger-happy of the two, as she was practically begging to put bullets in my knees."_

"You son of a bitch", she didn't bother looking up as she shook her head, but her face was enough to tell she wasn't happy with the description. "All I said to Dutch was _"I say we kneecap this pussy"_. You're so full of shit, Rock. I wonder how many other fairytales you stuffed into this thing."

_"I gave them the disc (actually I'd say they forced it off me) because I was fond of keeping my life, and thought that was that and we'd be safe…how wrong I was. The woman decided to drag me along with them as a hostage; she wanted extra cash from a ransom. I would have told her that Asahi doesn't negotiate with terrorists or pirates or any kind of villains for that matter, but she didn't look like the kind of person you should willingly give bad news to."_

Revy quietly sniggered at this, "A very good observation."

_"By the time they had me on their boat, I'd had a gun (or guns) pointed at me twice. The third time came soon enough, and this time the psycho (who I tagged as 'Revy', because 'Dutch' called her that) actually shot at me…about seven times…how I survived while I sat glued to one spot is something I'll be trying to figure out for a while (as well as how I didn't manage to piss myself). Just before that, she'd even threatened the other man in their group, a man she called 'Benny', with death. I had the feeling that she'd be my grim reaper in some way or another."_

Revy stopped reading and looked up at Rock in anger as she heftily dropped the book down on her crossed legs. "If you weren't fuckin' out of it right now…" she began as she brought up a single extended finger to point straight towards the ceiling. "If I catch you talking about me like that for real, you can say sayonara to your brains." She deeply exhaled, trying to calm herself down as she brought the book up into her view once more.

_"'Dutch' took me on deck for a smoke where he explained their job in the whole deed. I suppose I was beginning to experience the famous Stockholm syndrome as we sat there in the calm sea breeze, this man seemed to be the only person in the world that I could trust. I guess I can't be too mad at these people, it turned out they were just a delivery company, but what they were doing was still illegal, and that monstrous woman pulled me into it for no other reason than to satisfy her own greed, selfish bitch."_

"THAT'S IT!" she threw the book back onto the desk to her right as she lunged from the chair to the bed in one jump, the force of such tipped the chair backwards and made it land with an almighty clatter. Her left knee was soon placed on the side of the bed while her right was on the floorboards to support her. She cupped her left hand around the side of Rock's face and curled her right into a ball, gritting her teeth and reaching all the way back, ready to throw a punch.

The sight of how peaceful he looked made her hesitate and relax her face muscles, she sampled the feeling of his skin under her fingertips; despite all the damage from the explosion, it still felt soft to the touch, causing the corners of her lips of briefly flicker towards the ceiling. The man had no idea what was going on and yet here he was, completely open and defenceless at the violent whim of a woman scorned. Revy huffed in disappointment as she relaxed her hands, "You may not believe it, but I have enough honour to not hit someone while they're asleep. Asshole." She climbed off the bed and moved back to the desk, grasping the book that still lay open on the same page. She continued to read as she reached down, trying to find the chair without the use of her eyes.

_"If Hollywood interpretations of hostage experiences are anything to go by, then what I went through was nothing short of going on vacation in comparison. As per their job, we'd ended up at a city in Thailand called Roanapur, I'd never heard of it personally, and I was glad I never had up until then. Scum and prostitution inhabited every square foot of the place; if I had to give it meaning, I'd say it was the ultimate hub for underground and organised crime operations. It was in this city that my captors renamed me; 'Dutch' played on my given name, Rokuro, and turned it into 'Rock'. Here's the funny thing, I found it kind of catchy. So brandishing this strange new label, I was brought along to a bar. There wasn't a moment that we were in there in which a chill wasn't going down my spine, mostly because I've never seen a bar where every single table had at least three guns lying on it. It was too reminiscent of one of those old Western style movies. Fortunately, 'Revy' had finally calmed down once she had her hands around a glass, I figured that alcohol was a euphoria for her, as well as guns. What with being a hostage and all, I'd expect them to have at least some pity and leave me be; but it would appear that this city was the wrong place to go to find sympathy, easily demonstrated by 'Revy's' mockery of my declination to down beverages. But she'd already stretched my tolerance far enough, so it was time I showed her the side of a Japanese businessman that not many would expect to see. The look on her face was a treasure."_

"You got too cocky, my man. But I guess it wasn't bad for you to be able hold your shit." She snidely chuckled as she replicated his line after downing that glass, "Never underestimate a Japanese businessman!" she mocked in the same tone she had adopted earlier.

At that moment her mind suddenly went back to the bar the night before. When she had repeated that line to him on that fateful night, Rock had complimented her on her memory and looked over at her, mentioning how they had come such a long way. It wasn't anything he said that intrigued her, but the look on his face. His smile, coupled with the look in his eyes, made her feel relaxed. His face displayed incredible warmth, with a smile that could melt whole icebergs. Thinking about it, she realised that he had never looked at her like that before. She thought about it for a while longer, and began to wonder what he was thinking about at that moment.

_"Once again, her temper flared, and she wasn't going to back down - cue the drinking contest. One thing still confuses me about that moment…I was having fun. What the hell was going on in my mind to make me feel so happy about it? Was it the rebelliousness of it all? The not caring about what others thought? I don't know, but it gave me a kick that I hadn't felt in years."_

"For a whiney hostage, you sure had spunk didn't ya?" she looked back up at Rock's lifeless body with another smile. After a long pause, the perked up corners of her lips quickly inverted themselves and her eyes dropped at the sight; it was almost as if she were begging for some kind of reply from the man.

_"And then just as the kicks reached a high, the bar explodes…literally. Yep, it seems you don't need to give any warning when you're about to throw live grenades into a room full of people, it disgusts me, and it's nothing short of terrorism in my view. It felt like I was in the scene of yet another movie, but I was shocked by how the others took it, it was nothing short of a normal day to them! 'Revy' was continuing with her drink behind the bar and conversing with the bar owner while bullets rained overhead! How can somebody be so relaxed?"_

"You don't wanna know…but you'll be the same yourself some day when you go through enough moments like that." she sighed, swaying her head from side to side.

_"'Dutch' and 'Revy' made it their business to fight back, but this time it wasn't the lead rain that made me nervous, it was the fact that 'Revy' was smiling as she mercilessly gunned down the men around her…she was actually smiling. Just as I thought things couldn't get worse, 'Dutch' wanted to ditch me and leave me for dead, but for some reason I wanted to stay with them. It was mostly out of fear for my life, but I'd been wishing to get away from them all that time, and then when the opportunity presented itself right there, I chose the other option and asked them to keep me. I think it was around then that my Stockholm syndrome was starting to fully seep into my consciousness. Luckily, we managed to escape, and my head started to play tricks on me; I was seriously beginning to believe that I was in the middle of a film set, being set up in some sick practical joke. That was when 'Revy' said _"This is way more entertaining than Hollywood is ever gonna be"_…"_

Revy laughed at this, "Hell yeah! You should be aware of that by now!" But her eyes turned to slits as she read the next line.

_"…I suppose I can't complain, I can only assume that she's been in those situations…a lot…based on how calm she was (she was smiling as she killed people!)."_

"You don't know the half of it, Rock. And honestly, I'd prefer it if you never knew. You wouldn't be able to handle it." She said in a deep and serious manner.

_"It was around the time we were leaving Roanapur to head to the drop-off point at Belawan port that I began to steadily lose my mind. 'Dutch' said he was going to ditch me there instead (only because he said I might survive a few days longer), how courteous of him. Once again I opened my mouth without a care for consequence, and guess what? 'Revy' pointed her gun at my head again, that was the fourth time in the space of less than 12 hours."_

"You were asking for it", she shrugged her shoulders, "You were starting to piss me off…" she rolled her eyes "…again."

_"Ironically, the phone call from my boss (Mr. Kageyama) that gets 'Revy' off my case and saves my life (again) is the one that actually destroys it. According to the man I once respected (albeit under duress), Asahi pledged some of its time to developing nuclear weapons, the disc I was meant to be couriering contained the plans to the project. And just to kick me while I'm down, he renounces my existence like a dog that's just been put to sleep…"_

Revy cocked her head to one side, "Welcome to our world…"

_"…I couldn't hold my stomach anymore. Who just sweeps your life away like a piece of lint on a suit without any care for the poor soul they're crushing? 'A monster' is the answer to that; I concluded from that exchange that Kageyama was (and still is to this day) nothing but a purebred monster, a sick creature whose mind was twisted by the 'Asahi Pledge'. Seems my jokes to my peers about him killing to keep the company going weren't as farfetched as I first thought. 'Revy' didn't help either, she thought that a 'tough shit, but it happens' approach would make me feel better, how callous can someone be?"_

"You'll be surprised…" she spoke unemotionally.

_"Just minutes before, I'd been left to die by my company, and my captors were going to ditch me as soon as we next hit land; I finally snapped after tolerating all this treatment for so long. People could say and do everything they wanted to me after all my years of living, and they were going to keep going with it until my death. For once, I decided to fight back, and the opportunity presented itself when we came under attack from a helicopter…a very…heavily armed…helicopter. We'd been chased into a river, where we ran into the inevitable dead end at a waterfall, but our pursuer hung back as if to mock us. My captors contemplated the options of surviving, and my own contributions were swiftly halted with another jaw-breaking punch from 'Dutch', that was layout number two."_

"That one was awesome! You should have seen your body flap in mid-air; it was like a boned fish! It was so fuckin' hard trying not to laugh!" Revy leant forward as her diaphragm went into spasms from the laughter she had just began to let fly. She kept on reading despite her constant head bobbing from the laughter.

_"Of course I was naturally scared, but from what 'Dutch' had mentioned about the pilot (even though it was just his gut feeling), he wasn't going to make us an effortless and dull kill. He wanted to have some fun, a head-on game of chicken. I may have been dazed from 'Dutch's' uppercut, but I was still aware of their argument regarding the onboard torpedoes, about how they'd blow us sky high if a bullet hit them, and the possibility of ditching them to give us extra speed. I don't know what happened, but my analytical skills hit me, everything seemed too perfect to pass up. The helicopter was hovering by a sunken ship; the hull could be the ramp. The pilot wanted the head-on confrontation, and the torpedoes were forward firing. It was the perfect scene for an air joust. What I wasn't expecting was the crew to accept the idea (well, after some minor encouragement), chalk one up for the genius right here."_

"Bullshit was it 'genius'." Revy moaned, "None of us had a fuckin' better idea, so Dutch thought it would be a cool way to go out."

_"So there we were, at the point of no return, heading straight for the helicopter at full speed, David vs. Goliath. Despite my still being a hostage, the others gave me the duty of firing a flare gun as a missile countermeasure; I stayed true to the task as I had to use it almost immediately, I was just so relieved that it worked. We were approaching the ramp at full speed, and it didn't give me much time to brace myself, but I was ready for it, totally pumped up with my teeth grit and a wide grin to go with it. We hit the ramp at full speed, and I felt totally weightless as we drifted through the air, 'Dutch' had fired off the torpedoes, and I heard a massive crashing sound. That was when I saw the helicopter overhead with the weapon sticking out of its cockpit. I'd thrown off all of my inhibitions and stuck my finger up at him. I couldn't stop screaming in glee, the excitement was too much to contain, and it all peaked at_ "YOU GOT FUCKED!"_ I bounced around the cabin as we landed back on the water's surface as if it was solid concrete, and then the world went black."_

"Amen to that", she mumbled, "You were screaming like a goddamn maniac. You don't wanna know how tempted I was to cap your balls at that moment, just to see how you'd scream then."

_"And just like that, the moment passed. All the excitement I'd felt from the adrenaline just disappeared somewhere, and my boiling blood had returned to normal. It was only just as we were approaching Belawan that I came to, I was actually sad to know the journey was at an end. I was like a child, disappointed to know that recess was over. __To my horror, I saw Kageyama waiting at the dock side once we'd set anchor. And as if nothing had happened, he urged me to tag along with him back home…back to Japan. My mind was so conflicted, I could return back to my dull and ordinary life, where I'd get beaten up all day and downtrodden like a piece of dirt. But then I remembered what he said to me only hours before, that I was already dead. I couldn't help but take heed of how amazing the last day had felt, it was so exhilarating, and my body wanted more."_

"Junkie…" was all Revy could think of to sum up the statement.

_"In my 25 years of life up to before the journey, I had:_

_A pretty standard and uneventful upbringing.  
__Been through school without many problems (or memorable experiences either).  
__Failed an entrance exam.  
__Went to, and graduated from, university.  
__Got into a job whose only requirements were for me to get my ass kicked and kiss the ass of my boss at the same time."_

"Uh huh", Revy blurted out with an unimpressed sigh.

_"In just over 24 hours with the Lagoon Company (as I later discovered was their official name), I had:_

_Been taken hostage.  
__Been decked with a single punch on two occasions.  
__Had a gun/guns pointed and/or fired at me five times (four of those times by the same person)."_ She let off a small chuckle at that.

_"Been in a drinking contest.  
__Been a (scared) bystander in a shootout.  
__Held two guns (a real gun and a flare gun) and fired one of them.  
__Been shot at by a helicopter.  
__Flown through the air in a torpedo boat whilst simultaneously shooting down the aforementioned helicopter with torpedoes.  
__Effectively told my (now 'ex') boss to go and screw himself._

_Those experiences were what made my decision for me. It was a funny feeling, to know that I'd basically told my boss to stick the job and his good will, not to mention that I took his belief that I'd simply forget the whole incident as a small black spot in my career as a personal insult. And from then on, with just a few words to that monster, I no longer existed in the eyes of Asahi Industries, and my name was no longer Rokuro Okajima. The crew of the Lagoon Company were stood beside me as all this unfolded, and 'Dutch' asked what I was going to do now that I was the walking dead. I could only leave hints by telling them I was no longer a hostage and that I had nowhere to go from the place that I was stood. And from the person I least expected, 'Revy' said a delivery crew were looking for a sailor, _"They sometimes break the rules to put food on the table"_, that crew was the one stood before me. So after a little more than a day of death defying trials and tribulations: I had a new life, a new job, and a new name."_

"Ain't it amazing to see what little amount of time is needed to fuck someone's life up forever?" Revy let out a short hum, "Come join the club." Revy finally looked back up at Rock, her face looked as if were practically pleading for some kind of response; a head movement, even the slightest twitch of a finger; hell, she'd even settle for him throwing up. Knowing it was hopeless, she looked down to read the last sentence of Rock's first entry.

_"My name is Rock, and I'm a Japanese pirate in the employ of the Lagoon Company."_

She closed the book as she stood up, miserably sighing at the sight of Rock's body once again. She slowly paced backwards towards the door, throwing the book onto the desk.

"I enjoyed that little 'piece of mind', Rock. I might just have to see what other crap you've been keeping from m-" she sharply cut herself off, "…us."

She extended an arm out behind her to reach for the door handle. "And if I'm going to spend my free time reading your sob stories of woe and bullshit…" she twisted the handle, pulling the door open a crack, "…I'm gonna need something with a little more of a kick."

As she passed through the threshold and closed the door behind her, she remained rooted to the spot for a while. She shook her head, briefly running back what she had done as she read the diary. _"Was I really about to say 'me'?" _She looked at her hand, reminding herself of the feeling of his skin on her fingers,_ "And why did the feel of his cheek make me smile?"_ She let out a short grunt. _"Holy shit", _even the voice of her imagination sounded puzzled_._

She walked down the dark corridor into the dimly lit office. _"This reading caper is gonna get fun!"_ she cackled in her head as an eerie sneer spread over her face.

* * *

**AN: I can give a decent explanation as to the fast release of this chapter. When I first laid out the idea for the Fic, I already had some diary entires written down, and this was one of them. I tweaked around with it for a few days to make it better and then simply added Revy's parts in. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**The next chapter might take a while, but all I request from you is patience. Please R&R and put this on your alert list if you want (favourite it if you like it enough, too!), more reviews and alert requests mean faster updates!**


	6. The Siren of the South China Sea

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

'**The Diary of an Ex-Businessman' **

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 6 – 'The Siren of the South China Sea'  
**

"What a rush", muttered Benny as he lay sprawled out across the couch with beer in hand. "I've seen some gruesome stuff in this city, but damn…Rock looked like a malformed kebab last night, what with that thing sticking out of him."

Dutch shifted his sunglasses up his nose and hummed in response as he pulled out his second beer and shut the fridge, "An interesting comparison. The only difference in this case is that kebab meat is already dead when it's skewered. I don't know what that Marilyn Manson wannabe did, but somehow Rock will see another day." He slumped back into his chair at the head of the coffee table, effortlessly pulling the can ring with one finger.

"So this means we're on babysitting duty for a few weeks I suppose, huh? We can't just sit here for all that time without pulling a job, you know. We'll be flat broke before we know it." Benny lifted himself up to sit straight. He flung his legs out to rest on the table, mirroring Dutch's pose.

"Don't worry about it, Hotel Moscow's going to give us subsidies to pay for Rock's recovery, all courtesy of Balalaika. Which reminds me, you don't like our new surgeon friend do you? Your face when we first met her said it all." Dutch grinned, fully aware that he could mock Benny on the subject of Sawyer for a while after observing his erratic behaviour earlier that night.

Benny froze as he let the rim of the can touch his lips. His body language beamed submission as he let his can-grasping arm flop back down to his lap, "Who wouldn't be scared?" he rolled his eyes as he waved his arm in Dutch's general direction. "Apart from you and Revy of course."

"What's all this pansy talk then?" Revy had emerged from the corridor leading to the sleeping quarters, which was now Rock's personal IC ward.

Dutch didn't bother looking behind him as he replied, "So you finally decided to leave him be? He deserves it, what with all the shouting I can hear through that door."

Revy paused as her fingers grasped around the fridge handle. She blinked, her eyes trying to display ignorance. "There was a bug flying around my head and it was pissing me off. Fucker wouldn't stay still. So what?" She yanked to door open, just stopping it short of hitting the wall.

"From here it sounded like you tore half the room apart. Must have been a pretty tough bug." Dutch still kept his head motionless; he didn't trust a single word she was spewing.

"Yeah...it was." She kicked the fridge door closed, the contents rattling from the force of the hit. Without exchanging any glances, she marched straight back into the corridor with a six-pack in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. She spoke back over her shoulder as she trundled back to the room, "Besides, you two lazy cocksuckers can't be bothered to look out for Rock at the moment. So you're both forcin' me to play the fuckin' nurse."

Dutch snickered under his breath, "Keep telling yourself that", he murmured out of earshot. He took another mouthful of the bitter lager as Revy gently closed the door behind her.

A loud and vocal sigh echoed through the room as Revy leant back against the door. Making her way back over to the chair that still stood next to Rock's body, she clamped her lips around her glowing cigarette and almost threw the six-pack onto the desk. She couldn't help but double check everything was in place, perhaps she was drowsier than she thought. As she slumped back into the chair, she jerked a beer can out from the plastic ring it was secured to, causing the rest of the pack fall on its side. Extending a spare finger, she latched it onto the spine of the diary and slung it over her leg before pulling the can ring open. A few drops flew onto her shirt from the internal pressure, but all she could be bothered to do was drink and continue reading.

"I sure hope there's some juicy gossip lying in here somewhere, y'know", she began as she blew out another mouthful of smoke. "Otherwise I'm using this for toilet paper on the boat." She turned the page over and began skimming her eyes over the next passage.

_"At the entrance to the gulf, a Buddha statue once meant to brighten the world with the light of virtue now sits decaying. Beyond its faded glory lies Roanapur, the 'City of Immorality'. From the overland entrance to the city, there's always a noose left hanging for…some unknown person. And what awaits past this scenery is the 'City of Pleasure', Roanapur. Until recently I was a businessman in Tokyo, now I'm a crew member on a pirate ship."_

"I see…" she turned back to the first page and remembered the one phrase that confused her: 'City of Winter'. "If you meant Tokyo then why didn't you just put that in the first place you idiot? Diary's aren't meant to make people think", she unintelligibly remarked.

_"The only things I have now are the clothes I'm wearing and the crew of the Lagoon Company that I now call friends…well…maybe two of them at present; from the way she's acting, I think Revy is still to get used to my presence. She may have bought me that shirt as a welcome gift (which I have no intention of ever wearing…it's too hideous)…"_

"Jesus Christ", she moaned, "Again with the fuckin' shirt."

_"…But it's clear to me that we've already started to have conflicts in our ideals, maybe this is meant to be similar to the 'hazings' that I hear army recruits get. They say opposites attract, but if the way she talks to me now is anything to go by, I think these two opposites are destined to remain in a total repelling deadlock. If only I could get her to lighten up somehow…"_

Revy pondered at that sentence. _'Have all of his attempts been in vein?'_ she silently asked herself. And as far as she was aware, her answer made her head shift from side to side. "Almost..." was her response into thin air. She quickly thought back on their shared experiences; how the incident at the restaurant changed their perspectives of one another, how the trip to Japan had been a little more...constructive...than she was expecting. And once more, she remembered the look in his eye the night before...she still couldn't put her finger on it, but he wanted something to be known from his eyes.

_"This new life is multiple levels down in comparison to the previous day-to-day monotonous one I used to live. We only have to get to the proper work once some gang or individual has something that needs moving or stealing (as long as they have the money), most of the time Revy and myself are just sat at the office smoking, drinking and bickering while Benny fiddles with his computers and Dutch tries to fix the boat. The attack a few weeks back by the helicopter has had him working on that old piece of metal through some long nights; and he's still not finished, but today he took a break and decided to 'go out'; in this city, that sentence can mean anything from getting a hooker to performing an assassination."_

Revy huffed at that. "Not…exactly" she croaked as she took another drink.

_"I should really be keeping track of everything you should do and not do here, I've been picking up the occasional pockets of information, but there's so much that I'm already beginning to forget a lot of it. "Don't stick your nose in other people's business if you want to survive in this world, because it's probably no concern of yours" was the tip of the day from Revy when I became curious about where Dutch was 'going'. I suppose she's right, I may still be too soft. After all, I don't know the histories of my crewmembers. They keep their pasts to themselves, their privacy protected by a fierce sense of independence. But I don't care, that's how I feel."_

"_Being someone who used to work a steady 9-to-5 job with the occasional 'pub crawl' with my bosses and peers, I'd always return home completely exhausted. Sometimes I didn't have the energy to make dinner, so I just slumped onto the bed and went through the night until I had to be at work a few hours later. But now, aside from the…interesting…interactions with Revy and the almost constant smoking, I could finally have some peace and quiet for an hour or two in the middle of another boring day, even though my 'bed' was just a chair. Anyway, Revy kicked me awake (literally) at around 2 in the afternoon, and we were soon on our way to the Lagoon. Dutch said that one 'Donnie Yen' had a job for us, so at least I wasn't going to spend my whole day sat on my butt and eating some godforsaken fruit or vegetable (or as Revy put it: _"Something that came out of [my] ass"_) which I had the fortune of not sampling based on her reaction."_

Regardless of how long ago it occurred, that strong taste of bitter, near-rotten and chunkily textured unknown piece of junk that made up whatever Rock had thrown at her suddenly filled her mouth. Her face muscles twisted at the reminder of the unwanted memento. "I still have no clue what the hell that shit was." Just as a precaution, she wiped her mouth with her forearm and took another swig of beer.

"_It makes me feel glad to say that I've gained my sea legs in such a short time period; while the Lagoon itself is an old relic left from the Vietnam War era, it's still a surprisingly fast and agile machine, I suppose that's thanks to Dutch's mechanical know-how. The longer I work around the vessel, the more I come to respect and admire it, I may be saying all this like some naval fanatic, but the only things I know about boats are that they are designed to float…yeah, that's about it. My first ride on it was mildly gut wrenching, but now I feel I can have a short moment of peace whenever the sea breeze hits my face. Sadly, my moment of solitary calm was broken by more of Revy's put-downs. How can she seriously expect me to know the name of every naval knot in existence and perfectly execute the tying of them in the space of a couple of weeks? Fine, maybe a retarded monkey could tie them, but I bet that monkey had more spare time than I did in which to practice."_

She let a single "Ha" escape her mouth. Yes, she found it slightly funny.

"_Complaints aren't something Revy likes to hear either. She's fully aware that I'm not used to this sort of thing, and yet she scrutinises me like I were a master. Somehow this talk turned into a history sharing interaction. Excellent! Maybe I could finally find something out about one my crewmates. The way she described it, it sounded like Revy was one of those kids that had their own dream world in which they were one of the fearsome pirates of the seven seas. They'd go out into the backyard and swing a stick or toy sword around, taking down those evil bad guys to get to the treasure. But there was something about her that suddenly told me otherwise. Her eyes. Those surprisingly colour-saturated and shimmering emeralds suddenly transformed into dark and lifeless spheres, like they no longer had the capacity to hold emotions, life…or even a soul."_

Her eyes displayed a wince from the comment. Even though she was already aware of what she looked like, reading it from some else's perspective made her inhale sharply.

"_There's no way…she couldn't have been like this her whole life, right?"_

"…"

Total silence.

She looked over the sentence another two times before closing her eyes. She was taken back to the first time she had double-tapped the trigger; that man in New York City, the pillow, the spreading mass of feathers, it was so long ago that even she couldn't remember how young she was. How many years had she been killing now? _'Why do I have to be reminded of this?'_ her mind begged to be answered. She took a deep breath, eager to expel the memories; and as she felt the despair slowly flush away, she opened her eyes once more.

"Okay", the one word passed her voice box, hidden inside a collective sigh.

"_As much as I enjoyed that breeze as the hull of the Lagoon cut through the waves, we soon had more pressing troubles. I don't know all the specifics (Dutch became tight-lipped about it afterwards), but if I were to simplify the situation, we were set-up to become fish bait. Basically, a pirate fleet (led by a man who I later discovered was called Luak) pursued us as soon as we hit open water, that's right, pirates attacking other pirates. I may be unfamiliar to it all but…isn't there some sort of unwritten alliance between pirates? Either that or I rely too much on urban myths for information."_

She nodded as she finished off her first can. "Bang on the dot, my man. I'm sure you know by now that everything you ever heard about this world is total bullshit. Kill or be killed, friends mean next to nothing, and nobody and nothin' deserves your trust." With a swift constriction of her finger muscles, the can crumpled like paper in her fist. She threw it onto Rock, deciding to have some fun and use him as a trash receptacle.

"_Despite being outnumbered 6-to-1, we somehow survived thanks to some quick manoeuvring from Dutch. I have a feeling he must have been an experienced army veteran or some sort of ex-military figure. The way he spoke about flanking positions and avoidance of friendly fire…I admit that anybody can figure out these tactics from decent enough sources, but for him to recognise it the moment it was about to happen, he must have been through something similar before, or at least been trained to notice such behaviour from an enemy. Thanks to this, one ship was already destroyed, and another damaged, without us even having to fire a single shot, they did it for us."_

"_And then there was some…I'm sorry, words can barely begin to describe what Revy did."_

'_This'll be interesting…'_ she thought to herself as she reached over to the toppled five-pack.

"_Against five fully armed boats, each carrying a number of armed pirates, using only a machine gun and some kind of…rocket launcher or something of the like, she emerged the total victor."_

"Dumbass, it was a grenade launcher. Weaponry 101. How could you not know that?" she disapprovingly muttered at the body lying in front of her as she opened her second can.

"_The most breathtaking part of her display was that she leapt between each boat in __a single bound__. She didn't use anything as a stepping stone, just leapt and let the wind carry her to the next victim. Within 4 minutes, one boat was left and chickening out...it didn't get too far before she destroyed it with a single shot. It was…impossible…inconceivable…unbelievable...and spectacular (my exact word used at the time was _'incredible'_)."_

As she took another drink, a simple "Mmhmm" sound came from her throat, almost in approval of what he'd written.

_"Even as I said the words, a completely different thought had crossed my mind. I couldn't even imagine how her life was shattered to make her who she is today. But I must have been pretty broken myself to have sat there in awe, praising her for her powers of destruction."_

"Guess you weren't always the goody two-shoes you put yourself across as huh? You've gotta admit, even simple pencil-pushers like you have to appreciate some truly awesome work." The self-praise in her tone was evident; a smug and openly gleaming smile accompanied the comment.

_"The whole event reminded me of an old Greek myth: the winged Sirens that lured sailors to their deaths upon the jagged rocks using their mesmerising singing voices. Not many things differed; the Lagoon (instead of vocals) was Luak's lure, and Revy's ballistic weapons (rather than rocks) were the destructive force. As for the 'winged' part, she had an astounding (and from my point of view, most definitely unexpected) gracefulness in her movements as she traversed over the waves and between the boats; but the jumps themselves were almost totally inhuman. I'm astounded by the elegance of her actions, they pretty much contrasted her normal day to day physical movements."_

Revy raised an eyebrow. "Should I be thanking you or smacking you for that? Sure, the sirens were pretty and all, but they were totally viscious bitches with only killing on their mi-" the realisation of their seemingly uncanny resemblance hit her at that moment, "…ah. I get your point."

_"We got back to the office about two hours later after a non-stop wave of complaints from Revy. I was glad to still be alive, Dutch was annoyed that we wasted fuel and ammunition for a job that didn't exist, Benny didn't really care, and Revy…all I'll say is that finally putting weapons to lethal use after a period of inactivity cheered her up quite a bit (How do you get excitement out of such barbarisms?). However, she was also aggravated for just about the same reasons Dutch was."_

"It's not always about the shooting, Rock. Come on." She was annoyed at the statement, but she soon shrugged her shoulders. "Who am I kidding? Of course it is" she slyly smiled to herself.

_"After a brief phone call from Ms. Balalaika, the contents of which I have no idea about, Dutch felt it an employer's obligation to buy us drinks at the Yellow Flag, our 'second haven'. And yes, she tried to force the shirt on me again…drop it Revy, I'm not wearing that thing unless I lose a bet."_

Revy let off another tiny laugh, thinking about their bet at the Yellow Flag the night before. "I swear to God, some day I will knock you out and glue that thing to you if I have to. It was a present after all, so have the pissin' consideration to try it on at least once." Her eyelids were getting heavy and her view was starting to tunnel.

_"And here we are, back after a (thankfully non-bullet-riddled) night of drinking. It's two in the morning; Dutch, Benny and Revy are still sat in the office with yet another drink in hand. I'm slouched in this chair writing, and now I need to sleep. What misfortunes will the next underworld encounter bring? Will I even be alive to tell a tale of such events? Nobody knows, not even the all-knowing duo of Dutch and Revy. Until then, goodnight."_

"_'Goodnight'_ he says." She backed the line with a sneering tone, almost like that of an old woman. "Pah, he's showing more formality to a fuckin' book than he does his own crewmates." She stood up and turned back to the desk. "Now I wanna hit the sack. Seems sleepiness is almost contagious around this place." She left the remaining beers on the desk and threw the book back into the draw.

"I don't think anyone else needs to know that thing exists, this is just _our _little secret now", she spoke back over her shoulder to Rock, almost as if he were conscious and sat up facing her. She switched the light off and looked back one last time at the bed with a slight hint of a smile.

"I would say goodnight back to you, but that'd be like tellin' a corpse to die." Closing the door behind her, she calmly paced back toward the office.

Although Dutch was as still as a statue in his permanently reserved chair, his sunglasses made it impossible to tell if he were still awake, and Benny was typing away at the computer once again. This time he was instant messaging to Jane, informing her of the recent trials and tribulations; since he practically saved her life, she showed some sympathy for Rock, wishing he got better etc etc.

"No more bugs then?" Dutch remained motionless, the footfalls of Revy's heavy boots gave her movements away to him.

All Revy did was shoot him a look as she walked past, which she could easily feel was being returned through those tinted sunglasses. She slammed down face first into the nearest couch and stretched her arms out.

"What's making you care so much? Like I said, I've just had to watch over him like a fuckin' worried mom for the past hour." She gently made a fist and hit the armrest situated above her head.

"I never _told_ you to do it, you know. You took the burden yourself remember? Or have the recent events just made you suddenly lose your memory?"

"Leave it, Dutch. I need to sleep." Her head was still buried into the couch seat, the padding muffling her words into barely coherent sentences.

"I wonder what would make you feel so concerned about the boy." He finally shifted his head to keep Revy in his full field of view. "Japan, maybe?"

A deathly minute's silence followed. The tension was enough to even get Benny to stop typing on the keyboard. Nobody moved for the whole time, only when Revy swivelled her head to face the backrest did she bother talking.

"Fuck off, Dutch. I already told you. Don't think I won't break your face if you keep pushing it. Believe me, it'll even hurt someone of _your_ build, and I don't care that you're my boss, I'll still do it."

Dutch shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, but listen closely Revy. It's not hard to see something's up, and it'll keep eating at you until you force it out. I don't care how much you want to lock it in; I'll just keep asking until either one of us is dead, or you sort your shit out. Don't think for one second that I'll let you screw a job, or the team, because of some inner turmoil that you refuse to resolve due to you're own stubbornness. We've all got a case of it in some way or another, so I don't want to hear anything about how you think you're an exception to it. We clear?"

There wasn't even a hint of a response.

"Revy? Don't leave me hanging now."

Still no response.

"Dammit Revy..." He lurched up onto his feet as if he were a zombie. He had a feeling what was going on, but he wanted to confirm it with his own eyes. And as soon as he could see past the backrest, his suspicions were indeed correct.

Revy had already fallen straight to sleep after her little threat.

Dutch scoffed at the sight, "Alright, you avoided it this time, young lady. Some day you'll have no choice but to let it out." With those words, he made his way back to his chair, ready to follow Revy's lead in getting some long overdue shuteye.

* * *

**A/N: I admit that doing a chapter as simple as this should have taken up a shorter amount of time than it did, but I've had to go back to my Black Lagoon DVDs to get plot references, such as Rock's official monologues. I've also had a lot of other things come up in my life as a whole, so I didn't have as much time as before to get everything done. On top of that, it's actually harder to write the diary entries than I first presumed. I'm trying to write them in Rock's character as best I can, and there are some parts that I feel need to be put into a proper Rock-like syntax.**

**Please R&R, and don't be afraid to add this to your story alert or favourites list if you haven't already! More reviews and alert requests mean faster updates. After all, your feedback is what keeps this project running!**

**And a special thanks to JustMikeG22 and claymore47 for (subliminally) reminding me that readers like you are my motiviation for continuing!**

**Expect the next chapter within the next week or two!**


	7. Hollow Eyes and Lost Voices

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

'**The Diary of an Ex-Businessman' **

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 7 – 'Hollow Eyes and Lost Voices'  
**

"You're happy about it, right?" Rock's voice echoed inside her skull, but nothing filled her sight. It was pitch black, like a dungeon on a moonless night with the candles extinguished. The voice carried patience and calmness, as if it were talking to a child.

"Revy? Are you happy?" Rock's voice continued, and yet still there was nothing in her vision. No matter how many times she blinked, there was nothing but a vast sheet of darkness before her. She looked around, but wasn't even sure if she was even doing it. How could she know her head was turning if nothing was helping her to see?

"What do you want?" she spoke out into the infinite blackness. She felt the cold metal floor beneath her as she propped up her laying body. It was smooth and slightly wet.

"I'm just asking…are you happy?" Rock's voice never changed, it remained peaceful and undamaged. She couldn't locate the source; the echo was consuming the whole blank scenery and blanketing her perception.

"About what? What the hell are you talking about?" She finally stood up as she called out in front of her, realising only then that she was barefoot. She almost slipped on the strong, damp surface as she exerted more weight onto her feet.

"You know what I mean, Revy. So there's no need to waste my time. Are you happy?" The voice's tone intensified, putting more stress into the question. No matter where she turned, Revy could find no light, it was like a starless night sky, and absolutely nothing existed except her bodily form and the voice that taunted her from afar.

"Come and ask that to my face you bastard! Don't hide from me like a whipped bitch, Rock! I don't know what the fuck you're asking!" Revy's head was facing skyward, as if to scream to the Gods. Somewhere behind her, she heard the distinct tutting clatter of a tongue against the roof of a mouth. She turned round to face the direction of the noise. It sounded similar to that of an adult about to scorn a youngster.

Finally the voice spoke again. "Are you happy…" this time it came from the direction she was facing, and grew louder as the source drew closer.

Almost like in an ambush, multiple explosions instantly burst from the ground and surrounded the two individuals, who now stood only metres away from one another. The residing flames blocked them both in and started to constrict closer and closer around them.

That was when Rock looked up at her with his eyes closed. His face was dripping blood from every imaginable orifice; the skin on his cheeks was peeling like wet paper, flaking and slowly falling apart, revealing the grinning, razor sharp teeth hidden behind it. His white shirt was heavily torn, revealing a severely scarred torso, and was covered in red splatters. Revy stared on in horror as Rock slowly retracted his eyelids. Behind them, there was nothing but white eyeballs, no sign of colour or blood vessels, just a blank canvas like a sheet of paper. She instantly froze at the sight; it was like something straight out of a Stephen King book.

With an almost demonic death metal-esque scream, the figure that once looked like Rock leapt at her like a bounding lion with teeth fully bared, **"ARE YOU HAPPY NOW THAT I'M DEAD?"**

* * *

Revy instantly twisted round but found herself falling straight off the side of the couch, unintentionally but rather accurately hitting the side of her head against the table surface and landing in a position that would make a contortionist cringe. She didn't move, but just lay there and blinked multiple times. Was this reality? There was only one way to check. She slowly brought her suspended left arm around in front of her face and quickly pinched her right, which was resting underneath her sore head. She hummed to herself before speaking out into the empty office.

"What the fuck was that?" she waited for a response from someone or something. Not getting what she desired, she called out once more, "No, seriously. Just what the fucking hell was that about?" And still there was no response.

Her legs were crossed and still lying across the couch seats, while her upper body was on its back on the floor, facing the ceiling. Eventually, she pulled her legs off the couch to level with the rest of her body; she twisted her head around to what parts of the room she could see. The fridge was still intact, Benny's computer was running a virus scan, and the fan above her was still spinning as slow as the second hand of a watch.

She began mouthing the final sentence of the dream back to herself as she stood back up, not realising that she wasn't even hungover. She rubbed the back of her head as she walked towards her room; and over and over she persisted in repeating the line to herself. She slowly twisted the door handle and pushed the door forward, still muttering like a paranoid conspiracy theorist, and stopped once she saw the same limp form from last night still lying there in total peace. The scruffy clothed Revy scoffed to herself and shook her head as she stood watching.

"What are you? A fuckin' demonic wolverine or somethin'?" She was starting to enjoy her playful retorts with the unconscious Rock. She knew that she could say anything without any worry of having him bitch and whine back. _'Perhaps I could dress him up in a maid outfit like that fuckin' glasses bitch'_ see joked to herself _'I'd definitely need a picture of his face when he wakes up'_. She shook her head at herself; she figured that reading his secret diary would be enough to make him blow his top once he came to. Her eyes instinctively and rather greedily scanned back down towards the half-open draw where she had placed the diary the night before, letting a small grin grow at the side of her mouth. She was too involved in her thoughts that she didn't hear the office door open.

"Revy? You still here?" the muffled voice of Benny made it's way through the cracks in the doorframe. Revy heard him drop something heavy onto the table and instantly threw the door back towards her in order to satisfy her curiosity. She walked back down the corridor and noticed Benny already with his hands around a beer, stood next to another cardboard box full of random circuit boards and wires.

"Yeah. Where the fuck have you been? I've been up for hours with coma boy and you don't bother givin' me a heads up?" Revy was pointing back towards her room; her face displayed an attempt at a serious frown, but this effort of sincerity only made Benny laugh to himself.

"I only left 20 minutes ago, Revy. And you were still passed out on the couch, twitching like a fish outta water." Revy's face screwed up knowing that she had been totally rumbled. Benny continued, "We haven't got any jobs, so nobody's gonna care if you're gonna sleep through the whole afternoon anyway." Revy arched her eyebrow at the word 'afternoon'. She placed her left hand on her hip.

"Okay, first of all, shut up. Second, what the hell sorta time is it anyway?" She couldn't be bothered to check the clock that hung on the wall just behind her.

"Just gone two-thirty. Dutch is on the boat, and you know where Rock is." He smirked cheekily and took another drink from the can as it started to freely drip freshly formed droplets of condensation.

_'Fuckin' hell. I was gonna go talk to Eda as well, I need a new place to drink thanks to that fuckin' car'_, she chastised herself for being so lazy. She hadn't even drunk that much last night, only a few cans of beer, but the intense events of the past 48 or so hours had worn her out.

"Ah good, it's finished." Benny remained in his chipper state as he glanced over to his computer monitor to see that the scan had ended. Sliding himself into the awaiting chair, he pulled up a diagnostic report and quickly skimmed his eyes over the multiple 'zeroes' that spread over the page. "Good, no Trojans or worms to worry about for the moment. Can never be too careful in this new world of technology." Revy tried to pay attention at what her resident technophile was muttering, but all she knew about worms were the squiggly ones that festered inside the ground.

All of the workings in Revy's head only amounted to a bored reply of "Uh huh." It was times like this that Revy wished Dutch had bought a pool table for the office; there was nothing to do when there weren't any jobs except to drink, smoke and sleep the day away. Acting on her mental 'To Do' list, she approached Benny. "You got the keys?" she held a hand out expectantly.

"Is it important?" Benny returned to his modus operandi and let his fingers glide over the keyboard. Revy frowned.

"No. And let me rephrase the question. Gimme the keys." Revy urged her hand forward to emphasise the order, almost landing the tip of her middle finger in Benny's cheek. Benny gave a sigh of submission, "That's an interesting question", he sarcastically retorted. Reaching into his right trouser pocket, he pulled out the keys to the Coronet and flicked them into the air for Revy to catch. Revy headed straight for the door the moment she felt the thin sheets of metal land in her palm.

"Why, thank you, 'Benny boy'." She tried her best impression of Dutch as she mocked his moniker. "Don't forget to keep an eye on Rock." Her voice became commanding but soft as she mentioned 'coma boy'. She shut the door behind her.

* * *

Around fifteen minutes later, the Coronet pulled up outside the chapel of the Church of Violence, the sun was still high and pleasantly illuminated the stained glass window above the door. Revy disembarked and shot a look at the perched parrot to her left as it squawked and recited one of her previous visits in the form of _'Open the door you old skank!'_

Thumping on the chapel door, she heard a small chinking of glass on glass coming from the other side. Nothing happened after a round of three knocks, which is exactly why Revy intensified with every hit, almost trying to smack the door off the hinges.

"Can't you see we're closed, you dumb shit?" The familiar female voice echoed down the chapel and just broke through the door for Revy to hear.

"Get over here and unlock the fuckin' door Eda! I need some nine-mils!" Remembering the voice of a certain famous gunman, Eda stood up from her chair and walked over to the door calmly and collectively. Revy heard the footfalls of her…'friend's'…shoes and began anxiously tapping her foot.

The left-hand door swung outward and would almost certainly have taken Revy out like it did Greenback Jane. But Revy was ready for it, so she simply sidestepped behind the other door. Eda's head peeked round the side of the other door and locked eyes with the local 92FS expert. "Nine-mils, huh? Got the dough for 'em?"

Revy grinned and pushed her way past Eda to get into the chapel. "Nah, I'm just fuckin' with ya, I came for your booze, stupid. I'm not gonna pay at you're piece-a'-crap rates, old man Praiychat's got better shit than you." Eda shut the door and followed Revy, who was already halfway towards the altar.

"I'd say Dutch thinks otherwise. Being one of its members, you should know that Lagoon is one of our best customers; and that's just 'cause Dutch has to indulge your trigger pullin' habit." Eda followed Revy's lead in sitting down at opposite ends of the table like they had done so many times before.

"Fuck you", Revy impatiently replied, "We buy most of that shit off you 'cause it's fast. Besides, most a' the jobs we pull need more firepower than just these babies." She brought her right arm across her body and patted the Beretta that lay in her left shoulder holster. "But if I had to, I could take down a goddamn tank with 'em." Revy smugly smiled to herself.

"Get your head outta your ass and tell me what you want." Eda took a drink from her previously ignored glass of Bacardi. She bore her teeth after swallowing the lukewarm beverage; it really needed to be enjoyed when it was chilled.

Revy slumped forward, supporting her body with her arms as she rested against the table surface. "Told you already…booze. Gimme some."

"Whatever happened to the word 'please'? Fuckin' ungrateful brat." Eda retorted as she threw a half-empty bottle in Revy's direction. Revy drank and suddenly felt her muscles relax. "Why don't you just go to the Flag? Oh that's right, you fuckin' blew it up again you trigger happy gunner."

"Not my fault this time, bitch." Revy didn't bother looking up from her position of rest. "Some asshole drove a car into it and the fuckin' thing exploded."

Eda shook her head in disappointment. "Nice try, Two Hands. Gotta think of something a little more imaginative if you wanna fool me." She smiled at herself as she placed her glass back down on the table, believing that she'd called Revy's bluff.

They conversed for another half hour before the subject changed to the inevitable. "So…" Eda's attitude suddenly turned seductive. Revy looked up at her opposite with a frown, she knew she'd only talk about one person with that tone.

"How's our local man from Japan? Heard you two did a job for Fry-Face back in his homeland recently. How about some…details?" Eda's smile was almost lustful, like a woman fantasising about pulling something devious.

"Rock's…" Revy looked back to the chapel entrance, and briefly admired the figures in the stained glass. She temporarily brought back the image of Rock in his comatose state on her bed, completely immobile, "…stiff as ever." Just like at the office, without her even noticing, her tone had suddenly turned soft and her eyes displayed slight remorse.

"Oh my God." Eda leaned forward and grinned. "You finally did the fuckin' office boy, didn't you?" Revy snapped her head back to lock eyes with the blonde nun.

"Back off, you fuckin' dirty minded Mother Teresa." Revy's anger broke through her vocal chords and made Eda's smile briefly fade. "Just like I said, 'stiff as ever'." She let her head fall back down onto the table.

Eda just shrugged her shoulders, "You're no goddamn fun. I feel sorry for you if you really haven't hit that yet." The way she said it didn't feel right to Revy. Eda's voice sounded snide, almost as if it had a second meaning. She slowly looked back up at the nun while slightly squinting, like she was trying to find a crack in the mask.

"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Her eyes attacked the pink tinted sunglasses lying across the bridge of Eda's nose.

The nun quickly took her refilled glass away from her lips, "Huh?" She saw an interrogation emanating from within Revy's eyes; they wanted answers for something she was pretending to know nothing about. "Nothing, of course", Revy could tell the lie from a mile away, "I'm just saying that it's been just over a year and you still haven't done anything. Come on, Two Hands. I'm watching from the sidelines and even I'm getting fuckin' impatient."

Revy huffed and felt her anger building, which was her cue to leave. "I'll be coming back, Eda. Keep that liquor cabinet full", she called back over her shoulder and waved her middle finger in the nun's direction.

Eda smiled to herself as Revy slammed the door behind her. "Oh boy", she let a chuckle ring through the speech.

* * *

  
Revy opened the door to a deserted office. The fan on the ceiling was creaking at its snail's pace speed and the sunlight broke through the window blinds and left a striped pattern across the couch she stood behind. Benny's computer was still running, so she knew he had to be here. That's when she heard the multiple conversing voices down the corridor.

"It's simple enough Dutch, you'll only be away for two days max. And these two here can sort everything out." The voice was male, calm, and held a lot of panache and pride. Revy made her way to her room, which was where she saw the silhouettes against the window. There were three figures in clear view, she could make out Dutch's build, but she'd have to go in and investigate further. That is exactly what she did. She pushed the door open and was met with ten eyes as they all glanced to see their new visitor. Dutch and Benny were leaning against the desk, heads tilted toward the floor as if in deep thought. Revy looked over at the other three occupants. The smiling and permanently sunglasses wearing leader of the local Triad gang was sat in the only available chair, his body turned towards Rock. Chang let his smile grow at the sight of his faux-protégé.

"Ah, Two Hands. We were waiting for you to return." Chang raised a hand in greeting. Revy ignored the motion and focussed her sight on the short, gothic form of Sawyer, who was stood by the bed and fiddling with some bandages on Rock's abdomen. Next to the 'Cleaner', behind Chang, stood the tall and curvaceous body of the head honchos favourite kukri-wielding Thai assassin. Shenhua was smiling like an innocent child as she flicked her hair over one shoulder. Revy's face of anger, surprise and shock said it all; she needed an explanation, and fast.

"Revy" Dutch began, getting her attention, "Mr. Chang has offered us a job as means of helping to support us through this…time of need." He was hesitant to say the last section of the sentence, as everybody knew that having an injured crewmember would hardly destroy the team's motivation to work.

Chang nodded and turned his head back to Revy. "I only heard about what happened a few hours ago. I thought I could be of some help to my favourite delivery crew."

Revy quickly shook her head, "There's one problem there, Boss. It'll have to be a two man job 'cause one of us will have to look after old sleepy britches there." She pointed at Rock as Sawyer finished her ministrations and turned round to face them. Chang simply shook his head and Shenhua laughed, indicating Revy's misunderstanding.

"What's so funny, Chinglish?" Revy frowned towards the Thai woman.

Shenhua continued to laugh. "You so stupid, Twinkie. Why you think me and Sawyer here? You need more brain cells, I tink."

"Fuckin'-" Revy reached over for her Cutlass while Shenhua mirrored by going for one of her kukris. Their respective bosses swiftly intervened, Chang by simply raising his hand, Dutch by grabbing Revy's arm and forcing it back by her side.

"Just listen, Revy", Dutch spoke calmly and quietly, "It's a simple pickup and retrieval just outside of Rupat Atara. Even at the boat's fastest speed it'll only be a two day trip."

Chang nodded, "I've got a small weapons shipment making its way round the mainland from Lingshuijiao. I just thought you'd like some imbursement if you took the last leg of the route and brought them back here." Revy kept her frown glued, her trust was a hard thing to earn right now. "Since Miss Sawyer here is the one who saved your friend in the first place, I figured she would be the optimal person to look out for him while you're away. Shenhua will just be here as her backup."

Revy swivelled her eyes to level with Sawyer's, they stared each other down hard until Revy finally broke the silence. "So, you're a bitch to Fry-Face _and_ the Triad now?"

Sawyer's eyes never changed, they maintained their air of depression and loneliness as she spoke, "Since they're both paying me, yes." It was then that Revy noticed that Sawyer didn't have her Ultravoice in her hand. She quickly scanned the butcher's head and saw the small electronic box attached to a spiked collar that wrapped tightly around the middle of her neck.

Chang focussed his attention back to Dutch, "So what do you say? I can personally guarantee the man's well-being, and the integrity of your office." He quickly shot a look at his two accomplices and lowered his voice, "Otherwise you two will be in deep shit, got it?" Sawyer shifted uncomfortably while Shenhua maintained her empty smile.

"That doesn't mean much to us, Boss. The last time those two were here, they were trying to kill me and Rock, and they burnt our whole fuckin' building to cinders." Revy would never let a single personal guarantee trick her into handing out her trust.

"We were paid only to get Indian bitch. It your own fault you help her, stupid cow." Shenhua shot the fault straight back at Revy, Sawyer nodded in agreement. Dutch finally decided without consulting his crewmates.

"We really don't have any other choice, guys. The money we're getting at the minute from Balalaika won't help run the boat much longer", he turned back to Chang, "Okay, we'll take the job. But we're gonna need some kind of insurance."

"Name it", Chang replied with a smile.

* * *

  
Dutch and Benny walked through the office doorway, quickly shooting glances at their newly arranged housekeepers. Benny was carrying the same cardboard box from earlier, but it contained some extra items: Shenhua's kukri's and throwing spikes. Revy stopped as she passed in front of them and shot them the finger with her right hand, and with a cheek-to-cheek grin she held up Sawyer's Ultravoice with her left and waved it in front of them.

"Try talking now, lumberjack bitch. Anything funny and this thing ends up at the bottom of the bay." Sawyer's lips were shut and tensed. She tried her best to compose herself, but it was hard since she no could no longer talk. The one thing that kept her sane, however, was the knowledge that she could order another one, the problem with that being that it would take about four weeks to get to her. Shenhua also had a small look of disappointment about her. Those lethal blades felt like an extension of her own body, she didn't feel whole anymore now that she'd been stripped of them, and it made her distinctly unhappy.

Revy shifted her gaze to the tall femme fatale. "There's some takeaway leaflets by the fridge, Chinglish. God knows what you'd do if you didn't get your fix of Phad Thai." Revy cackled to herself as she walked out the door and out of earshot. Shenhua turned to Sawyer as they shared a mildly pained glance, they both felt so weak and hopeless without the things that made them strong and unique.

"That bitch gone too far. I strangle her with her intestines when she get back." Sawyer could only use her body language as a response, shrugging her shoulders as Shenhua walked over to the window and sighed depressively. This was going to be a long two days.

* * *

_**Two Days Later**_

It was just coming to five-fifteen in the afternoon. The waters surrounding the Buddha were so calm that they looked like glass, and the slowly descending sun gave the velvety azure surface a lovely glossy finish. The crew of the Lagoon Company had still not returned yet, and they were hoping the journey would take less than it already had. In the dangerously quiet office, Shenhua was stood behind Sawyer as she inserted a new IV needle into Rock's arm, throwing the empty bag she had taken down into the satchel case that she had brought to the office with her.

"This shit so boring, why Boss Chang make us play nurse for pussy? Lagoon assholes late as well." Sawyer ignored the remark, there was no point responding since she still didn't have her Ultravoice. Shenhua huffed and left the room, stomping her high-heeled stilettos against the hardwood.

Sawyer pulled the chair by the desk towards her so she could hang the new IV bag from the coat hanger that still protruded from one of the Revy-induced bullet holes. Dutch had done it without any strain; then again, he was almost two feet taller than Sawyer was. She was aware that the crew would be back soon, and she was eager to get her Ultravoice back. This sudden surging desire to rush didn't let her body keep up with what she was trying to accomplish, and she slipped forward off the chair as she leant towards the hanger. Fortunately, the mattress was directly below her and cushioned her from the fall. When she opened her eyes, she realised that her head was only centimetres away from Rock's cheek, and her left arm was resting over his chest. Her eyes widened with surprise, becoming one of the few times she'd shown any emotion, but she didn't move as she saw the minutely raised corners of his lips. Was he smiling at what had just happened? Or maybe he was dreaming about something? All of a sudden, she remembered their last encounter, when she had come straight at him with her chainsaw at the warehouse. She could see the fear in his eyes, clear as day, but he had managed to keep her at bay with just a metal shelving rack. She realised that below the seemingly weak and feeble persona he drew for himself, there were probably some hidden strengths that many people either didn't notice, or Rock just didn't want them to see, things people such as herself admired; he had guts to hold her off with nothing but a few sheets of metal, pure improvisation. Slowly but surely she moved her free hand up to Rock's chin and tilted his head to give her a full view of his face. He looked so peaceful, and yet she knew that the wound was painful to him even in his unconsciousness. Completely unaware of her own actions, she let her eyes trail down to his lips again.

Shenhua was stood looking out the window when she finally heard the familiar engine of the Dodge Coronet. She sighed with relief, as she'd finally be rid of the pigsty that was the Lagoon Company office. She called back in the direction of Revy's room. "Sawyer! Assholes are back!" Her voice demonstrated anxiety, and yet she didn't move from the spot. She heard two different doors open, one was the entrance, and the other came from the corridor, obviously Sawyer had heard her call.

"What a fuckin' waste of time", Revy immediately began bawling the moment she stepped through the threshold, "We need some goddamn excitement, Dutch! These pizza delivery jobs are startin' to piss me off!"

"Oh, you idiots finally back now? You take your sweet time, you know that?" Shenhua pasted her masking smile across her face once again. Sawyer had just walked out into the office as Shenhua continued, "So you gonna give our things back now?" she demanded, impatiently placing her hands on her hips. Dutch followed Revy in, and Benny completed the trio. Benny tensed up as soon as his eyes recognised the petite, chainsaw wielding, and gothic dressing bounty hunter.

"Benny, check on Rock." Dutch didn't bother looking towards the man stood next to him; he just stood blocking the doorway with his bulk, eyeballing the somewhat mischievous pair through his sunglasses. Benny slowly placed the cardboard box he was carrying onto the floor space in front of him and made his way down the corridor, almost breaking into a jog, he really wanted to get away from Sawyer. Revy was trying to stare Sawyer down once more, this time with another sneer. Unexpectedly, Sawyer looked away out of submission, this made Revy arch an eyebrow, and she knew the mute was too psychotic to simply stand down like that. Something didn't feel right to the gunman.

"Rock's fine, Dutch." Benny's voice was just comprehensible from down the corridor. Dutch nodded curtly in the direction of his duty-relieved house sitters. "Alright, thanks for your help." He reached into the box near his feet and pulled out Shenhua's kukris, totally unstained and in the same pristine condition she had left them. Dutch threw them across the room with some spin, but Shenhua caught them both expertly, sliding the handles across her palms so both blades ended up in a dagger position, and slid them back inside her gown. The next objects to come her way were her leg straps, with all the throwing spikes still attached. Sawyer glared back at Revy intently, letting her eyes do all the talking. Revy's face displayed second thoughts, but she knew that a deal was a deal. She took the Ultravoice, with the collar still attached, out from her right pocket and threw it into Sawyer's awaiting hand.

"Hope you had a good time", Revy mocked. As she reattached the collar and reset the device, Sawyer kept her eyes glued on her new biggest rival, but refused to say anything. "Okay, now get lost you two. I'd appreciate it if you didn't spend anymore time here than is necessary." Sawyer locked eyes with Dutch's sunglasses as she began to walk towards him, "Gladly", her monotone machine articulated. Revy just stood and watched on as the mysterious couple walked past the doorway and made their way out of the building. As soon as they could no longer see the two women, the pair looked around the room to see if anything was out of place.

"Who knows what they could a' planted while we were out, Dutch. There could be a bomb under Rock's bed for all we know." Revy had displayed her untrustworthiness towards the Triad employees throughout the journey, both going and returning. Although Chang had ensured them that there would be no trouble, who was to know that there might potentially be some double-dealings behind the scenes?

"I can't say much to that except that I took the risk of accepting a job because we needed the money. Sometimes, Revy, you just have to put rivalries aside for mutual gain." Dutch walked over to the fridge as he cited his reasons.

"It sure as hell wasn't mutual, we just made those two bitches our…bitches", she laughed at her little joke, "Hey, throw me a can while you're there." Almost instantly, she found one flying in her direction. Dutch stood back from the fridge, still propping the door open. "These guys must be some kind of damn puritans. They didn't have any beer, or any of the leftovers we had in here. They either got take out and drank their own piss, or Mister Chang was feeling generous and sent a goddamn catering crew."

"I'd take lunch at the China Bowl any day. Their shit's like royalty compared to our fuckin' room temp day-old pizzas." She manoeuvred her way around Dutch and immediately headed for her room, simple assuring words weren't something to be instantly trusted, she wanted proof that everything was as normal as it should be.

Benny was already closing the door behind him as Revy approached. Rather stupidly, Benny stood right in her path with a slightly awkward smile, his face was giving something away, but she couldn't quite recognise what.

"It's okay, Revy. Rock's just like we left him, there's nothing to worry about." Revy frowned at the man stood before her; something was definitely up. "If there's nothing to worry about then you won't mind me seeing for myself right?" she used her forearm to shove Benny's shoulder out of her path and began to march for the door. Benny put his hand behind his head and called back out to her, "But…you said you were fed up with looking out for him." He got no response as he watched the door close with a gentle thud. "Oooh, shit" Benny muttered under his breath as he slowly plodded back to the office.

"What the hell was he actin' all constipated for?" Revy walked with haste up towards the bedside and quickly scanned up and down Rock's body. Nothing was out of the ordinary, his sheets were clean and still revealing part of his chest, and the new IV was still in position with its needle still in his arm. The only thing that seemed out of place was that Rock's head was turned away from the door instead of facing straight up. Quickly humming to herself, Revy dropped onto the floor, lying flat on her stomach and looked up and down the underside of the bed.

Nothing.

_'Look at you. You're acting paranoid'_ her thoughts scrutinised her as she stood back up and rubbed the back of her head. She looked back down at his head, and acting on a hunch, she slowly reached a hand out to grasp the concealed side of his jaw. She slowly turned Rock's head round to face her. Slowly but surely she saw more of his features as they came into her view.

His left cheek: Still red from some small scratches. Lips: partially cracked from lack of moisture, but nothing out of the ordinary. Forehead: still had some minuscule grazes. Nose: fine. Eyes: obviously closed. That just left…Revy's eyes shot open and her pupils constricted to the size of the eyes of needles the second she saw his other cheek.

Dead in the centre, as if it were there for everybody to see, a perfect ovular lipstick marking of a kiss was painted on his skin.

Dutch and Benny had assumed their positions on the couch, relaxing after their simple but almightily dull job. The only sounds they could hear were the occasional car driving by on the road, that was until…

**"FUCKING BITCHES!!"** Revy's scream was loud enough for both men to believe that she was stood right next to them. Dutch only moved his head in the direction of the room, whereas Benny facially winced and planted his free right hand palm onto his face in self-annoyance. Within seconds Revy was already through the door, and stood within a metre of Benny.

"Just what the fuck is that Benny?" She was still screaming, enough so that Balalaika over at Hotel Moscow HQ could probably hear her like they were in conversation. Benny somewhat flinched from the pressure of her verbal assault. "I asked you a fucking question! What the fuck is that on Rock's face?" She was now pointing back in the direction of the room she just burst from, Benny simply put his hand up, waiting for the air to clear to give his explanation.

"Don't blame me. I was gonna get rid of it after I found it, but I heard you coming towards the room so I didn't have the time. I was trying to stall you but you were…a little too eager to get in there." Amidst all the commotion, neither the blonde technophile nor the maroon haired pistoleer had noticed Dutch walk into Rock's room to investigate, walk back to the office _and_ sit back down. Dutch just sat there and began to laugh hysterically. Both of his companions slowly glanced over at him in an awkward silence as he sat there laughing to himself.

"Lighten the hell up Revy. I'd say one of them probably has the hots for him in secret. Both of them have met him in the past so it's not exactly wishful thinking. It had to be one of them, didn't you notice that they were both wearing lipstick?" Revy turned towards her boss and folded her arms.

"You fuckin' idiot Dutch! Did you know that the chemicals inside poisoned lipstick could be absorbed into the bloodstream? Did you? Of course not! It's 'cause you're too fuckin' stupid to take this seriously!"

"You're just making an excuse to be angry." Benny cut in rather swiftly. Revy pivoted to face Benny with her flaming temper, once again forcing Dutch to quickly intervene.

"I already wiped it off, Revy, calm down. You really need to learn to relax more. Haven't you learned anything from the way Rock handles things? Anger isn't always the best solution." Dutch folded his arms behind his head as he propped his feet back up on the table. "If you're so worried, maybe you should go check his pulse again", his tone was less than serious, more sarcastic, it was almost jeering at Revy's lack of a sense of humour.

Revy practically spat back as she went back towards her room. _'I swear to God. One of those freaks is gonna get an unscheduled tracheotomy'_, she was still seeing a slight tint of red, but as she closed the door behind her and sat down facing the new Casanova, she began to relax little by little. She propped her feet up on the edge of the bed and used her rearward leaning to reach back into the draw for the diary. She had marked her previous page with a simple fold in the top corner, making it easier to keep going from the last sentence.

"This has helped me relax…kinda. But you'll kick me off again if I find any bullshit about me." She didn't look up at Rock as she opened the book up in front of her eyes before starting at the next entry.

_"World War Two…a severe black spot in the history of mankind. A time where hatred and violence knew no end, a time of great sacrifice, eternal remembrance…and of vast cultural significance. I never would have thought in my wildest dreams that I would be one of the first people to set foot inside a long forgotten and undiscovered relic of that era, a mere memory for some, a tomb for others…a hell for me. When it comes to my personal views on that stain in humanity's past, I greatly admire the people who gave their lives for their country, regardless of their nationality. In the name of what they stood for, soldiers would charge head on at fortified pillboxes, naval captains would stick with their vessels to the very end, and pilots…would willingly fly themselves to their death, straight into their target. Honour governed the actions of a Japanese soldier back then; but yesterday…I witnessed the true collapse and destruction of pride and honour. One thing proved it to me: A young Chinese woman with an insatiable greed."_

Revy's lips retracted, exposing her now clenched teeth. "Fuck!" she snapped out her free right hand and had her Beretta aiming in Rock's general direction within a split second. Her finger hovered over the trigger, but she hesitated as she closed her eyes and felt her inner cogs start to turn.

* * *

_**"Go on, waste him. He's been writing this shit just to make you tick."** _The voice was that of Revy as a killer, its tone was deep and coarse, similar to how she spoke when she was in the so-called 'Whitman Fever'.

_"He wrote it how he saw what happened…how he saw us. He's being honest about his experiences. He wrote it in here because he thought we'd never find it. It would stop us coming to this situation."_ The second voice constituted what remained of Revy's compassionate side: the mentality of a woman as if she had never known the world she was currently in. It was calm and collected, but sounded rather feeble.

_**"We both know you're fucked off by what he's been sayin'. He doesn't know how we function, why should we let him judge us?"**_

_"I'll say it again, he's telling his version of it as honestly as he can. We have our version as well, and we were in the same sub together, how can they be so different?"_

_**"People tell lies to get through life all the time."**_

_"Again, this is his open take on the matter. Rock's a shit liar, we both know that. Don't forget, he's talking about the Revy he saw eight months ago. We were still unfazed by him when we took the sub job, but you have to agree that some things have changed since then."_

There was a long pause before a response.

_**"You win this time, faggot. Don't expect to stop me having my way when the white-collar fucks up again."**_

**

* * *

**Revy took a deep breath and slowly recalled her aiming hand. Her steady breaths continued as her eyes remained shut and she felt the pistol slide back into the holster. She slowly opened her eyes to the sight of Rock and noisily sighed, "Where's Freud when you fuckin' need him?" With one final deep inhalation, she turned her eyes back down to the pages.

_"Depressing monologues aside, I'll explain the most intense 24 hours I've had to date. We'd been hired to salvage an old sunken submarine that was discovered just over a year ago by a French telecommunications company. I worded that wrong: we weren't hired to pull up the whole ship; our client just wanted a painting that was rumoured to be aboard. The archive image that Benny showed us didn't look like much; it was pretty bland and didn't have much feeling in it. Dutch was more than willing to take the job despite the fact that the word 'rumour' was the one with the most emphasis behind it; I guess that was the $50,000 payment persuading him. And who were the two (un)lucky people to dive down to that gravesite? Yours truly and the aforementioned Chinese woman, somebody up there must really hate me this week, because so far it's been nothing but _"Rock, you're a faggot"_, and _"Shut up, Rock. Your opinion doesn't matter"_. Dutch only told me to go because I was stupid enough to mention an experience with scuba diving that I had a few years back. Hell, it had been so long that I almost forgot how to put on an air tank. You probably won't be surprised when I tell you that Revy was yelling at (and almost itching to shoot) me before we had even back-rolled off the deck of the Lagoon. Saving my hide once more, Dutch cheered her up with an underwater machine gun, seems those manufacturers can make a gun for any material; next thing I know, there'll be a pistol that can shoot through 5-foot-thick steel walls."_

"I'd give my damn liver for one of those", she muttered.

_"So we suited up and dove for the treasure, if there really was any; I didn't know the way so I just let Revy's instinct guide us in. The pressure on my ears hurt more and more as we descended, I'd never been so deep before; it felt like a vice was squashing my ear drums, and my blood vessels were starting to constrict. That's underwater pressure for you, but for the sake of the job, I just had to endure it. I was honestly enjoying the dive, we both had the standard respirators, and so I wasn't going to hear any insults and put-downs from Revy until we hit the target point 47 metres down. And then we saw it: the beautiful German U-boat. It had been left almost untouched since 1945, and it started to look like the surrounding environment was making it its own, small urchins and anemones were painting the hull in a dull grey, just like a worn headstone. We navigated our way to the bow and entered the sub through the torpedo tubes…the underwater tomb was about to open for the first time in a little over 60 years. Revy being Revy, she blew straight through the door without notifying me, and I was sucked through, smashing my head against something on the way. I'm sure I was partially concussed, which definitely didn't help my mentality the moment I accidentally put my fingers through a sailor's skull…literally. The place was littered with skeletons…well, that's a given since nobody had touched that gravesite ever since it became such, their bodies just sat and festered inside those metal walls of confinement since their final breaths, slowly rotting away. I can't imagine the suffering they went through; some probably let their air run out, and others wanted it over quickly, most likely in the form of a self-inflicted gunshot. It's a sad tale, they had travelled so far, all the way here from Germany, only to be sunk a few miles away from their destination…a cruel and ironic fate indeed. Being in a place of such despair and hopelessness really makes you wonder what they must have gone through…but not for Revy, oh no. She gladly kicked the skulls about like soccer balls and acted like she was walking through some second-rate store and handling the goods to try and break them. That place contained a lot of items of sentimental value; the least somebody could do was show some respect, for the sake of their memories."_

Revy didn't bother adding her side of things, and opted to continue.

_"We kept going, searching every cabin we could, but to no avail. Then in one small bunkroom, there was a large collection of bodies, more than there should have been in a room like that. Since they were all dead there was no way I could tell what went on…a 'mass' suicide perhaps? But Revy's intuition arrived and made up a scenario of murder and revenge. At first I thought it was wishful thinking, but the uniform of one of the men told me otherwise. He was wearing a uniform unbefitting a German sailor; he was actually the rumoured SS officer that the submarine crew took aboard. I realised at that moment that the painting was also most likely not a rumour. And guess what? I found it laying a few feet away from the officer's body. It was a lot smaller than I expected, and it still kept that dull look about it…we were being paid $50,000 to fetch this little thing? Somebody must have been desperate."_

"Anybody will do almost anything to get whatever they want. All as long as they have the dough; you're ex-boss is a good example of that y'know." She remembered how Rock's boss, Kageyama, had been authorised to pay as much as was necessary to get Extra Order to destroy the disc they had, as well as kill Rock.

_"I was ready to head home at that moment, but Revy…turned into a goddamn grave robber. These men fought so hard for what they believed was the righteous way, and died doing the duties they enrolled for, and then some people come along and care not for their memories, or anything precious that may be held to their name. Instead, they gladly desecrate it, plundering anything of value. Revy had no low on that voyage; she was willing to steal hard-earned medals for profit. Pride…she doesn't know the meaning of the word. She just left me on my own with those corpses to find anything that she could sell. Despicable."_

Instead of let her anger build again, Revy shook her head. She couldn't deny it, back then she was quite the person to find anything that would make an extra bit of cash for spending at the Flag or on her Cutlasses. Technically she still was that person, but some areas of Rock's personality had definitely rubbed off on her.

_"I found a picture of the Captain and his family while Revy was out, they looked so happy, the look on his wife's face told me that she always had faith in her husband's safe return. He had a young son too, and if he is still alive today (he's probably near seventy years old by now), then he has lived for so long without any closure on the mysterious disappearance of his father. It's people like that, the relatives who have not had the answers they've longed for, they are the ones who deserved whatever sat rusting in that tin can. We had no place in taking their belongings, other than the painting, which I strangely had no regret in relieving them of."_

"Yeah, maybe the canvas was so crap they actually killed themselves so they wouldn't have to look at it." Revy's own faint attempt a joke fell on even her own deaf ears.

_"I took the matter up with Revy…a very…bad…idea. I'm all for hearing about everybody's histories, but I really didn't want to hear what she said. We all know the famous sayings, _'Money makes the world go round' _and _'Money is power'_, and I think she took that to heart…badly. It seems all the values that normal people would hold were things that Revy never had, things that retarded her chance to develop into something better. Nobody was there to support her, everybody despised what she was, and so she had nothing to turn to but independence sought through violence and money. That constant search for the next thing to sell…her own greed is her raison d'etre, and her power comes from those guns. And then her eyes changed again. They became those soulless, empty vessels of something that shouldn't be of the world, just like they were before the incident with Luak. They were staring dead at me, unfaltering, unfeeling, totally devoid of anything pleasant, they were the eyes of a killer, the eyes of somebody with nothing to lose and nothing to hide. She thinks I'm acting like the stuck-up people she despises so much…how can I possibly help that? I was brought up in that world of praise and fortune; I can't suddenly change into something I'm not. I can't bear a burden that I haven't experienced, and still I become the target of abuse and threats. Just because I talk like someone who knows best, it doesn't mean that I am, it's a conflict of morals, and she didn't like being challenged in such a way, and that's why she threatened to kill me. This time, I'm not shrugging it off; she meant it more then ever before…and once again, the eyes said more than her words did. If possible, I don't want to see those things ever again."_

Silence ensued as she read over the whole paragraph again. Even as she began to understand what points Rock was putting across, she couldn't think of any way in which to respond.

_"Because Dutch and Benny were out of radio contact for the whole thing, we were totally unaware of some special guests that came a knocking soon after. I won't go into details of my own ineptitudes and unwavering clumsiness, but I will say that I dropped the painting and our friends got away with it. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that there was another gunfight. Naturally, Revy was pissed at me again, but she'd have to save it since the sub started to flood. We just managed to get our equipment back on, and I thought we'd have to retreat. It's common knowledge in the diving world that you MUST have a buddy in case of an emergency, such as an air tank failure. We had two choices, and Revy made it up for us without any consultation. She headed straight up, straight for the people who stole our goods. What an idiot, we had no idea who they were, and from the look of that diving bell; they were more than prepared for this. As well as that, she ascended so fast she was risking getting the bends, a common diving problem in which nitrogen bubbles get into the blood stream; it may sound like a minute problem, but the bends can actually kill. Revy's rage couldn't be contained, so she tried retaliating like a cornered fox, but they started peppering the water with machine gun fire. It was then that I realised that we wouldn't get out alive unless I stopped her. I had no choice, she was going to get killed, and I know Dutch wouldn't be too pleased with me if I let that happen, so I had to pull her back under and restrain her. As much as her eyes said she was going to castrate me the moment we got back to the boat, she finally decided to go along with it. There were two good reasons for doing what I did: One: Like I said earlier, Dutch wouldn't like it if I told him I let Revy get herself shot to pieces. And two: The people who shot at us would think we were dead and give us an easy escape. I had a feeling that the encounter wasn't over yet, so this would put them into a false sense of security."_

"I really did want to shoot you at that moment. But you're right, cutting your balls off would a' been a lot more fun."

_"We returned to the Lagoon, battered, bruised, and without the goods. Dutch didn't have much of a care; he knew what had to be done to finish the job. And although what he had in mind wasn't something I'd condone, it was a job we'd accepted and I suppose we'd do anything to complete it. The terrible duo of Dutch and Revy were planning to massacre an entire ship of neo-nazis."_

"Hardly any planning went into it at all", Revy countered, "'Get on the ship and waste anything that breathes' was the basic outline."

_"The lead up to the raid was so tense that I almost seriously crapped a brick. Revy's eyes didn't change at all; they stayed in that permanent twilight of a harbinger of death, as if she were the right-hand woman of the shinigami himself."_

"Should I take that as a compliment?" She quickly snuck a glance at the bed.

_"Dutch was awfully calm; I guess that was experience preparing him. Within a few hours, Benny and I were on standby aboard the Lagoon as the duo of death headed out in the dinghy, ready to raise hell itself. I like to think I can remain calm and collected, but it was then that I noticed that the way she treats me is becoming familiar to something from my past. It may be kind of bad for me to say it, but a part of me secretly didn't want Revy to return from the encounter."_

"Now you know I felt when…" was all she could muster.

_"The wait was strange, I was really worried as they began their raid and I didn't hear any gunshots, I thought they might have been caught before anything happened. For some weird reason, I relaxed the moment the shooting started, probably because I knew they were both aboard and beginning their search. Occasionally we'd hear Dutch over the radio, but Revy was too indulged in her red mist and replied with only monosyllables. I don't know what was going on, but Dutch got pissed at her for not responding at some point near the end. Either she'd been shot or she went off the reservation and did something I can only define as 'bad'."_

Revy tilted her head downward as she muttered her little slogan of that night, "Oink…oink…oink". She remembered barging into the bridge of the ship and kneecapping the surrendering man who approached her, and how she would have killed him had Dutch not intercepted her milliseconds before pulling the trigger.

_"Benny and I started talking about our two gung-ho teammates, how they seem totally composed in such a destructive environment. He said that Dutch was awfully calm as Revy and me were being shot at. Once again, we could attribute that to experience. It felt like an eternity before the signal flare came from the rear of the ship, but when I checked the time, they had done it all in half-an hour. 30 minutes…how many people did they kill in that short amount of time? Actually, I don't want to know, but the ship would be found eventually and we'd find out the total death toll somehow. I was curious to ask how everything went, but all I got from Dutch was _"Mission accomplished"_, and Revy still had those eyes…she wasn't over the submarine yet."_

Revy's voice copied that of her inner killer mentality as she leant forward and looked down at her lap, "You should know that…nobody else heard that story before you. No one has ever since, either. The resurfacing of self-destructive memories is something you don't get over easily, Rock. It reminded me of what I really was…a killer…just a motherfuckin' killer. My purpose in life is to take the lives of others and feel damn good about it at the same time. Nothing more, nothing less. So what if I'm a harbinger of death? It's nothing you'd ever understand." She sat there in silent solace as she realised that she was actually revealing a part of herself to him. She didn't mind since he was unconscious and none the wiser, he'd never know it happened. She breathed in deeply once more before putting her attention back into the book.

_"We just got back after our return leg, the sun is just starting to rise and I'm in desperate need of a bed. I'm logging all of this now while it's still fresh in my memory. Who knows, I might forget everything by tomorrow. Either that, or Revy has actually shot me in my sleep. I wouldn't mind as long as it's fast and painless, that way I won't have to endure those eyes anymore."_

She suddenly remembered her dream on the morning of the day that they left to carry out Chang's little courier job. Could it have been related to this? The completely hollow eyes of the creature? The scream as it leapt for her?

_"Are you happy now that I'm dead?"_

"I see…" Revy didn't have to remember, but she knew that if she had actually killed Rock any time during or immediately after the submarine job, she probably would have felt happier about herself, having rid the world of another parasite who thought they could change everything. And the eyes, the way her dream self reacted was probably one way in which Rock might have felt when he saw _her_ eyes all those times over.

She closed the book, throwing it on the desk once again as she looked back over at Rock and huffed, "So I guess it works both ways, huh? Jesus H. fuckin' Christ do we need a shrink badly. I wonder if that voice box bitch does lobotomies…"

Revy's stomach interrupted her train of thought with a loud grumbling. She quickly swivelled her eyes down and straight back up. "You're doping on that cocktail of 'God knows what' up there…" she began as she pointed a finger at the IV bag, "…so you don't need to eat. Lucky bastard." She stood up and made her way to the door, pulling it open a few centimetres before she heard the ever-present clicking of Benny's keyboard in the distance. This time, however, she left the room without even looking back.

* * *

**A/N: Phew! What can I say about that then? Obviously this chapter is the longest so far, but I found it necessary in order to progress the plot. I thought it would be good (and quite important) to have some more character interaction and a bit of proper Revy development this time round. And yes, Eda and Shenhua have officially entered the building (and subsequently left it too), so you can expect some more of them in later chapters!**

**Please R&R and put this on your story alert list if you haven't already! You can even favourite it if you like it that much! The more reviews and alerts, the more motivation I get to carry on and the faster the next chapter is released!**

**My thanks go out to all the people who have reviewed and sent me PMs so far! I never expected so much praise for my first ever published Fanfic! **

**Expect the next chapter within a week or two!**


	8. Hell Hath No Fury

**I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.**

**This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.**

**All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.**

'**The Diary of an Ex-Businessman' **

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 8 – 'Hell Hath No Fury…'**

As the lower hemisphere of the sun's perfect, bright saffron circumference began to dip into the horizon that linked into the South China Sea, it radiated a pleasant glow that bathed everything it could touch in a small but much appreciated warmth; being close to the equator, nobody would expect anything less. The rays broke through the open blinds of the office, illuminating the dancing dust particles that hung in the musky air. It was a sight that Dutch was thankful for, as the boring white light hanging from the ceiling only gave the room a dull and boring ambience, if it could even be called that. Through the minutely opened window, he could hear the seagulls caw, the waves lap gently against the dock walls, and then he let it all be drowned out by the repetitive and amplified clicking of Benny's keyboard.

"You've been typing non-stop for ten minutes, Benny boy. Why don't you give it a rest?" Dutch didn't take his focus off the automobile magazine being supported by his large hands.

Benny was sat behind Dutch, their backs facing each other on either side of a two-metre gap. "You kidding?" Benny began, "These fingers have got the stamina of a marathon runner. If I had to, I could type for five days straight."

Dutch briefly flashed a wicked smile. "You can put them to better use, you know. You do have a girlfriend after all, if you get my drift." His tone was low and deep, as if to imitate a Barry White song. As he'd finished talking, he knew he'd hit a nerve as he heard a short but sudden cessation to the tapping of keys.

"There's one problem with that, Dutch." Benny continued typing, hearing Dutch hum to indicate that his attention was on the technophile. "She's not here. Who do you think I'm talking to right now? People like me don't just use these things for breaching firewalls and writing virus code, you know."

Dutch scoffed in response, "Long distance relationships…" he shook his head as he continued to read, "I could never get used to those."

Benny shrugged his shoulders at the remark; "It's okay if you talk on a regular basis; say, a few times a week. But in the end, it's all about trust. How ironic, trust is the one thing you can't find in a place like this."

"I wouldn't say that", Dutch said as he let the magazine fall onto his open lap, "Sure you get the occasional bastard who chooses to slide a dagger into your back for a few large green, but there are a few rare gems that you can count on."

Dutch's train of thought was cut off by the sound of heavy boots against the plastered floor. He swivelled his head to the left and caught the thin figure of Roanapur's resident hothead in his peripheral vision.

"So, you calmed down now?" Dutch asked out the side of his neck. All he got in response was a mid-toned grunt as the woman walked between the two men and towards the fridge, causing the reclining ebony man to flicker a smile. He looked at the wall straight ahead of him and brought his arms up, letting his hands rest behind his head and interlock their fingers.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Dutch asked to the end of the room, intending for his employee to hear him. The only response he got was that of the fridge door contents knocking against each other, creating some dull metallic chinks.

It had been almost four years since Revy had joined Dutch and made his courier company dream a true possibility. He knew better than anybody that silence from her meant she was either going to kill somebody, or she was too wound up in her own thoughts to care about anything else that happened in her surroundings. The former was the usual cause, but she sometimes exhibited some traits that made the latter a better reason. The biggest difference was that she'd actually exercise her vocal chords, albeit in extreme moderation, if she had something on her mind. If she were on the warpath, she'd be as mute as Sawyer when she didn't have her Ultravoice.

Just as she had swung the door closed with a light flick of her fingers did Dutch answer his own question, "Get some rest. You barely slept the whole time we were away." He heard the light rustling of plastic wrap moving behind him from his right ear to his left, indicating she must have picked up some of the leftovers that had been sat in there ever since they'd left for their job, and was heading back to her room with it.

"You don't want that," he began, "there's some Chow Mein on the way. It's sure not haute cuisine, but it's better than whatever crap you've got in your hand right now." He heard the footsteps come to a halt down the corridor, but nothing to indicate any additional movement, like she may have turned around.

"I'm fine with this." Revy replied with a deep and croaky vocal sigh over her left shoulder. "I don't give two shits what it is, I'm just fuckin' hungry." With that, she continued pacing back to the room, quietly sliding the door closed behind her.

There was a short silence, aside from the keyboard, before Benny initiated another conversation topic. "She's still pissed about the lipstick", he said in the direction of the monitor, as if he was talking to it rather than Dutch.

Dutch hummed in agreement. "Let's leave it for the moment. Revy just needs time to cool down." It was only now that Dutch realised the sunlight that once gave the room it's calming tint had bled away through any wall cracks it could have found. He took a glance out the window and saw the very tip of the final saffron tangent submerge itself into the blackening sea line. He could swear that he saw the rare 'green flash' as the darkness began to creep over the cityscape.

He shifted his weight forward in his chair and allowed the momentum to lift him back up to his feet. He turned on his heel to face Benny, who still had his back to him. "It may be a bit soon to hit the sack, but I've gotta be up early tomorrow. The Ripoff Church called before our job about our latest order; didn't have time to pick it up before we left. I'd like to get down there early so they don't start handing out freebies to God knows who with products I spent our hard-earned cash on."

Benny nodded since his lips were preoccupied as they wrapped themselves around the rim of a newly opened beer can. He made a short sigh of refreshment as he pulled the can away before replying, "That's a decent plan. I'm almost in the same boat. I ordered a few things and they said today would be the earliest they'd arrive. Can't hurt to go up there and check, can it? So I suppose that leaves Revy in charge of Rock-sitting…again."

Dutch lightly snickered, "Looks like it." Benny finally ceased his typing as the computer monitor died and displayed only a jet-black screen. He turned around and met Dutch's eyes through his sunglasses with his own look of concern, "Can we really trust her to look out for him?" his voice had lost its volume, but not enough so that it became a whisper, "she hasn't been right since…well…you know. And what happened earlier really knocked her off centre."

Dutch didn't show any response in his body language, he just opened his mouth to respond for the last time that night, "You know as well as I do that she won't talk to me about whatever her problem is. Maybe she sees a confidant in Rock, he's unconscious, so he won't know jack shit when…if…he wakes his ass up. What those two did was probably just to see if they could make us tick; but thinking about it in more detail, Rock's a rare thing to happen to this city: a mostly pure hearted guy with good causes and a pretty clean nose. Sometimes, it's that image of purity that some people want to keep with them; maybe those girls simply have a thing for him because he's a total opposite of what they are, not to mention…I suppose you could call him a looker in his own unique way. I don't have a damn clue; it's all speculation on my part. As for Revy, I can trust her not to do anything stupid. She is my employee after all; I wouldn't appreciate her wasting him right now, otherwise she'd be looking for a new job."

Benny tried to take in everything Dutch had just explained, with not much success because he was focussed more on his hair, which was perfectly reflected in Dutch's sunglass lenses. Despite that, he knew that Dutch only spoke such long essays because he had a good reason to, and that was good enough for him. Because of this, Benny only looked off to the wall on his left and nodded his head. His reward for the reaction was a slight pat on his right shoulder from the towering American stood before him.

"See you tomorrow. You can have the takeaways, and don't forget to offer Revy some as well." Dutch waved the back of his hand to the blonde as he headed down the corridor. Benny shrugged his shoulders before returning the gesture, "'Night."

* * *

Revy was sat in what she had now deemed to be her usual position: leaning back in the hard wooden chair next to Rock's bed on the rear two legs, with the diary in her left hand and a beer in her right. The only difference to the scene this time was the plate of stale, half-eaten pizza slices sat on the desk next to her right arm. While she'd fished the diary out of the draw to start reading once more, she couldn't help but overhear Dutch and Benny's 'insightful' conversation about her. She heard Dutch's long-winded speech and shook her head in blatant denial. But even as she continued the movement, she began to feel like she was in denial about the denial itself. It only confused her more, so she decided to think no more of it.

"Makes me wonder…" she murmured as she took a swig out of the condensed can, "…how you really woulda' reacted if you knew a crazy bitch who tried to cut you up a few months ago went and planted a wet one on your face. I bet she woulda' fuckin' molested you if we hadn't got back when we did. It's fucked up, man." She shook her head and took another quick drink before letting her eyes fall back down onto her newly saved page. "Hell, lookin' at how stiff you always are, you'd take whatever piece of ass you could get without batting a fuckin' eyelid."

Finally shifting her concentration from creating speech to reading text, she began to go slowly over Rock's next entry:

_"If you've never been to Japan, I'll tell you that it is a mostly male dominated society. While women in superior positions of power are not uncommon (company executives, etc.), they are still quite few and far between. Take marriage as an example. If a Japanese couple wed, the woman is, from then on, generally expected to become a 9-to-5 housewife, while the husband provides the income. While I had no qualms about that lifestyle, what with being a man living in it, I can genuinely say that I am glad to experience another society (if it can even be called that) that has at least some mutual diversity._

_In an ironic role reversal, the person who beats me up the most these days is in fact a woman. She's about 5'9", with green eyes like a fully developed rice field, and maroon hair that can give matured red wine a run for its money. Her features are that of eastern descent, but not as defined as my own, owing to her American side. And her figure…I bet I'll regret saying this later, but she is in fact quite striking. She's slim and toned, but not as strung-out as a supermodel or as bulky as a health nut; if I absolutely had to, I'd actually say she's an attractive young woman."_

Revy raised her eyebrows in mild surprise at the remark as she flashed another quick glance at her near-dead company. Did Rock just compliment her on her appearance? She knew Rock wasn't the kind to sit and stare, so he must have caught quick glances at her when he knew she wouldn't notice.

"You sick bastard", she muttered ungratefully with underlying contempt.

_"Her arms are sleek but powerful, attached to which are fingers that can end a life; her legs can move her at a speed equal to one of her own bullets, and jump her across distances Olympic long jumpers could only dream of (if you don't believe me, refer back to the part with Luak). Apart from that, all I know is that she's called Revy…and she will be the death of me."_

"Damn, I was tryin' not to give my plans away", her remark was not without a sarcastic undertone as she lightly shook her head once more.

_"Revy…it's an interesting name. As a given name it's one I've never heard of, maybe it's something to do with the Chinese community. It could be a nickname for something, but I don't see the point in chasing it since we all like to keep our personal aspects private (bar myself, who's history is news to almost nobody anymore)."_

"Too true", she agreed as she bit into one of the stale and almost rock-solid pizza slices. Her face muscles constricted, twisting her face into a look of disgust; she suddenly wished she'd accepted the takeaway offer. But it was her own decision, so she decided to persist. She swallowed the hard and sticky dough with a visible wince before carrying on with her observation, "With everything you kept lettin' out, I think I know your life better than you do by now."

_"From my experiences as of recent events, I see that Revy is both easy to read, but is a total enigma at the same time, so it's likely that all I'm seeing of her is only what she wants me to see. Her most outstanding traits are her temper and her selfishness: the former has already brought me near death numerous times, and the latter is what roused me to begin our…talk…on the submarine. Consequence doesn't faze her; she lets her mind be known anywhere and anytime, regardless of the person or their authority…except maybe Ms. Balalaika. Gathering what I could from the things she said while we were on that sub, pity and sympathy are things she despises; it was never given to her during her childhood (that's all I can assume from her words), and so she doesn't see why she should bestow it upon others. This is the most likely reason for why she seems to have a hard time accepting me, although I accept that my own invariable whining about my own minute hardships are probably the main cause of such disapproval. But looking at it from a normal person's point of view, the sudden and dramatic change in lifestyles should certainly be enough to garner some kind of compassion. I can only assume that the suffering I've endured so far compared to her is like comparing a pinprick to being impaled with a metal pole."_

"So that's when you thought you started to understand me better, huh?" she let out a sharp scoff and rolled her eyes, "Took you long enough."

"_Revy has become colder in the few days that have passed since she and Dutch safely returned from the Nazi cargo ship. I'm barely given the time of day to converse with her, and it's as if she has almost renounced my existence, just like someone else I used to know. I don't understand it; people in this world change too fast, and I can't keep up. How am I supposed to know what things are my responsibility if nobody ever informs me? It was because I dropped the painting wasn't it? If I had just held on…we wouldn't have taken 8 hours longer than was necessary. I suppose I truly was the idiot there…but I'm not apologising."_

"Yeah, and just look at what happened when you said that to my face." Her mind flashed back images of the scuffle outside the restaurant all those months ago: the gun, the single echoing shot, his bleeding forehead, the punch…the cigarette in the back of the police car. Unbeknownst to Rock, Revy's respect for him minutely grew after that incident, she was grateful that the white-collar who pissed and moaned about everything that didn't go his way finally grew a pair and confronted her, despite the fact that she reacted in a way that the phrase 'over the top' could never live up to.

"_Everybody makes mistakes, and this was just another to be added to my ever-expanding list of screw-ups. I'm not like her, she knows this, and yet she expects me to keep my head in the middle of a gunfight. I don't know anything about guns, and I'm not a mariner by nature, I'm just a pencil-pushing, ass kissing ex-businessman. Actually, looking back on that day, I don't think the painting had anything to do with it at all. We got it back eventually, but she was still in her 'killer mode', as I've decided to call it. I have a feeling that what we talked about down there is something she has _extremely_ hard feelings about right now. I'd say she needs time; but then again, time is all we have in this city. It'll be as helpful as adding ice to water down a glass that's already full of water."_

Revy sighed at the last couple of sentences. "Like I said, Rock, you were the only person to hear what I told you in that rusting tin can. After that, I couldn't trust you to keep your mouth shut. Other than that, you kept harassing me with your 'goody two-shoes' philosophy. If I hadn't said anything, you wouldn't a' shut your trap. And then I'd _have_ to kill you." Just like the few times before, her voice epitomised her newly trademarked 'killer mode'.

"_Just a few minutes ago, she yelled at me about something, but I wasn't paying attention, I was too focussed on her face. For a second, I didn't see Revy, I saw Kageyama: that demonic, scheming monster…the one who discarded me like yesterday's newspaper, like a used tissue…like a redundant employee. I'm just beginning to understand the world now. Dominance overrules everything; if you can't act high and mighty over somebody, it means you probably have no place here. The glares she shoots my way say enough about her thoughts. Her eyes have permanently frozen and moulded themselves into those vast pits of nothingness; there's no 'rice field green' in those irises anymore, just complete darkness and a burning intent to maim and kill. I have a feeling that I won't be here much longer, even I can tell I'm her next target, and she wants me to give her a reason to kill me."_

"Ha!" she scoffed aloud, letting it mildly resonate through the walls, "I already had three reasons before the goddamn restaurant", and she laughed to herself in a lower volume.

She felt her eyes start to droop as Dutch's earlier advice rang in her head. He was right, during most of the time spent during the previous job, all she had done was complain about the two women that Chang had put in charge of Rock's care, rather than take an hour or two to get some shut eye. Her first qualm was about her lack of trust in them, second it was about how Dutch somehow possessed the trust she lacked despite recent events (namely the whole 'burning down the warehouse' lark), and thirdly it was about how utterly and mind-numbingly boring the job had been. She actually started moaning about the latter as soon they had arrived to pick up the cargo from their Chinese contacts, much to the chagrin of said contacts. And the whole confusion surrounding 'that fuckin' lipstick', as she referred to it, just made her synapses fire off even more after they had returned.

She was worn down, and she realised she'd only taken that one bite from the dead cold pizza lying on the plate next to her. She'd only get some energy back if she slept, which is what she decided was the best plan of action for the rest of the night.

"Maybe I should put myself in a coma", she mumbled to the bed as she turned to face the desk head on, "then I can sleep for as long as I want. And as a bonus…" she picked up a crumpled can next to her right forearm and threw it at the sack of meat on her left. It accurately landed on Rock's chest and rolled onto his other side and out of her view before she finished the sentence, "…I wouldn't have to put up with your shit either." She finished her comment with a self-satisfied grin as she slammed the diary closed and flung it back into its draw.

She let her arms slide parallel to each other on the desk surface and slumped her body forward to let her head fall onto them, using them as a makeshift pillow. Her head was turned back to the door, and she just had time to recognise the shift from light to darkness in the corridor, indicating that Benny must have flicked the switch off. Slowly but surely, the weight on her eyes proved victorious as she gradually fell into her own dream world.

* * *

The next morning, the sun looked as if it had been reborn, like a Phoenix from its own deceased ashes. Its luminescence carried a blinding bright yellow hue similar to the head of a healthy daffodil.

The time: 9:16am.

Even at the early hour, the intense glow of the suspended orb against the cloudless azure sky carried a heat that some believed could boil water if it were left out on the sidewalk; heck, some people even tried it with thin sheet metal buckets lying beside their doorstep.

The atmospheric room temperature: 81°F

Even as she lay in the shade, slumped over the desk, Revy's skin was covered in a thin, sticky sheen of sweat and condensation formed from her surprisingly low surface temperature and the humid air engulfing her. Every few minutes she would squirm to find a position that felt a little less uncomfortable, but it was all in vain as her bangs began to endlessly tickle her nose as the sweat kept the thin strands of hair glued to her forehead. As much as she tried to resist, her impatience won over her need for sleep and she abruptly swept a hand across her eyes, swatting away the annoying follicles. She finally brought herself to open her eyes, albeit slowly, and take notice of her surroundings. As she lifted her head off her bare forearms, it felt like her skin was being peeled away like a piece of adhesive tape. She recognised the door, the desk draw just below the line of her right thigh, and the row of bullet holes that traced the top of the doorframe.

She swivelled her head to her left and saw Rock's body, 'stiff as ever'. She tensed her lips together in slight jealousy and frowned as she looked at the nearest corner of his mouth; it was still turned slightly upward as if he was smiling…even possibly mocking. She slid the chair back along the floor, making it give off a light scratching sound, and stood up. She pushed her arms out in front of her and interlocked her fingers with her palms forward, stretching out her triceps, and then her abdomen as she raised her arms high above her head. The movement was accompanied with a yawn, which itself was coupled with a completely incoherent utterance.

As her arms flopped down to her sides, briefly rattling her prized pistols, she heard the office door close some distance away. Footsteps soon followed the sound; they were boots, and the wearer must have had a lot of bulk as each footfall echoed through the whole office, even against the hard plastered floor.

The first voice she heard through the door beside her was Benny's, "'Sup?"

She ignored the conversation to turn back to Rock. Despite his inactivity, he was also covered in a slight veneer of his own essence. Revy shrugged her shoulders, "Yeah, I know it's hot. But don't think you're gonna get special treatment 'cause you're playin' dead. I'd pour water over you, but I'm afraid you might drown in it", she added a hint of mockery to the second sentence.

It was only then that she realised that her sleep was totally devoid of any dreams whatsoever. Over the course of the whole night: nothing. Not a single ridiculous scenario that her mind's eye had tried to conjure up for her viewing pleasure. There were no hints of a monster Rock, there was just darkness. At that moment, she regretted waking up as she started to imagine how peaceful her night must have been. But there was nothing she could do now, and so she forced her mind back into reality.

She began her slow and flat-footed approach to the door, but stopped once she heard an incoherent mumble from Dutch, but it was Benny's response that roused her suspicions, "Aw jeez…" his voice carried more annoyance than worry, "…she'll go over the damn edge if she finds that out."

She tightened her jaw and raised a single eyebrow at Benny's remark. She had a dying urge to burst out the room and force it out of the Hawaiian shirt lover, _'I don't like unpleasant surprises'_, she thought to herself, _'but they'll never tell me if I ask them.'_

It suddenly hit her at that moment that that was how both Dutch and Rock must have felt if they wanted to ask her a question. If they asked her something she'd rather keep private, then she'd either cement her lips until they gave up, or she'd threaten them to mind their own business. In a manner of speaking, she was now getting a proverbial taste of her own medicine.

She sighed in submission as she slowly pulled the door toward her. Leaving the door open behind her, she trundled down the corridor while scratching the back of her head with her left hand; her right hand lay motionless on her hip.

Upon hearing her footfalls, both men had turned to stare at her with apprehension written all over the creases of their brows. She met each of their eyes with her own multiple times before looking at the floor ahead of her.

"Morning, ladies" she greeted calmly, but out of character nonetheless, as she shouldered her way through her two companions and towards the fridge.

"I'm impressed" Dutch began. "You actually listened to me for once. See how refreshing a good nights sleep can be?" he folded his arms as he walked over to the window on the far side of the room.

"Refreshing? Gimme a fuckin' break." Revy's voice made its way round the fridge door and into Dutch's ear canals. "Wakin' up drenched in sweat sure as hell ain't my idea of refreshment!" She drew her head back from the fridge with a bottle of water in her hand and turned to face the men in her field of view.

"Can't you fork out a few hundred for a new AC? That fan doesn't work for shit…" she pointed up at the ceiling with her free index finger, "…and the unit in my room's FUBAR." She huffed as soon as she saw Dutch shake his head.

"No can do for the moment, Revy. We need almost every cent of what we got from the last job." Dutch's head never moved from its current position that looked out the window and over the bay.

"What the hell for?" Revy's voice carried blatant exasperation as she stared at the back of her employer's head with a distinct look of disdain, "Don't tell me you're gonna waste it on a figurehead for the goddamn boat." Dutch shook his head once again before turning round.

"First: I have to split it equally for your pay. As unfair as it is, Rock doesn't need any of it right now, so that means more for both of you." This made Revy lightly grunt in protest. "Second: I've gotta get new parts for the engine, you heard the vibrations on the way back. It shouldn't be making that kind of sound. Third: If I don't buy any fuel, then the Lagoon's going nowhere. And finally, we need some money to buy food. I figured that was a given."

Revy backed down with a light defeatist growl. Benny, meanwhile, was more focussed on the pixel-formed picture of Jane and him in front of a coastal background that sat in the bottom-left left corner of his computer monitor. They'd taken that shortly before she left to escape any remnants that the gang of the snide Mr. Elvis might have had left in the city. Benny hummed in realisation of what he had told Dutch the night before.

"Oh yeah, I need to go and see if that stuff arrived." He made his way towards the door before being stopped by Dutch's inquisitive voice. "You gonna take the car?"

Benny replied back over his shoulder, "Nah, it's a nice day out. Walking sure as hell can't hurt. See the both of you later." He waved behind him as the door began to mask his movement toward the staircase. Revy and Dutch just looked at each other as if they were trying to wordlessly interrogate one another.

Revy finally broke the silence in a bored tone, "So what are you doing? Working on the boat…again?" She held the bottle a few centimetres above her mouth and let the smooth, clean liquid fall down her gullet like a waterfall, all without ever touching her lips.

"I've got the few odd jobs to do about town. Nothing too serious, just need new batteries for the headsets and another mop for the brig, since you snapped the last one clean in two." Revy defiantly shrugged the blame off. "But I'm hoping that someone will offer us a job if they see me walking about like a depressed stockbroker. Calling Chang or Balalaika will just make us look desperate, which won't help our rep."

"So you're fuckin' pinning sleeping beauty on me again…" Revy didn't ask the man across from her, she just bellowed the obvious out into the room in a manner of extreme reluctance. However, Dutch didn't realise that her attitude disguised her inner feelings of partial joy.

'_More secret diary time!'_ her thoughts wickedly pointed out.

"For the love of…" Dutch spluttered as he turned his head away. "Does being around him really piss you off that much? He's unconscious for Christ's sake." Despite the straightforward question, his voice didn't change volume or tone; he remained as calm and collected as ever. "Fine. I'll stay here, _you_ go and get the goods."

Revy shook her head with a light laugh to show she was trying to cut him off, "I'm fuckin' with you, Dutch. Come on, it's not like I've got anything better to do with my time. Remember, if the job don't involve good marksmanship and shootin' bullets, you can give it to another dumb schmuck." She held her hands up with her palms facing towards the ceiling.

"Knowing you, you'd be drinking with the Ripoffs without a second thought." Dutch folded his arms as he made his observation.

Revy started to give her reason as she walked around the side of the couch in front of her and slump into the centre cushion, "Nah, not this time. Eda's been pissin' me off lately, and the last thing I need today is an egotistical nun trying to preach some shit about her 'Lord' to me while she's as off her face as Boris fuckin' Yeltsin."

"Yeltsin's dead, you know", Dutch subjectively pointed out.

Revy scoffed, "Yeah, and I'll make her the same if she can't keep her goddamn libido in check. I swear to God, Dutch, that penguin's gettin' desperate. She's only ever focussed on four things…" she held up her free hand in the form of a balled fist, and extended each of her fingers upward with each of the points that followed, "Booze, guns, cash and men."

Dutch smiled, he'd been given the obvious bait and couldn't resist taking it. "So she's just like you then?" He let out a tiny chuckle.

Revy's shoulders sagged in displeasure at the comparison. But she had to admit; she was always one for trying out a new weapon, shooting it at someone to get cash, and using the cash to buy booze.

"Okay, shut up. Scratch one off that list if you're gonna try and take the piss. I know men better than she does by a long shot. The fuckers can only think a' more ways to get a bitch pregnant so they can pass on whatever useless legacy they think they have to the next little brat, which is usually just a massive fuckin' debt. They're desperate, perverted assholes who'd throw away their money for twenty minutes with some diseased whore slumped on a street corner."

It was only then that her eyes slowly glided up from the table she was staring at during her monologue and into Dutch's sunglasses, just above which she could see a raised eyebrow. "No offence" she remorselessly added as she tipped her beer can in her boss' direction.

Dutch sighed before he calmly responded, "None taken."

They both remained in their positions for another thirty seconds of silence as both tried to think of a way to break the unnecessarily awkward atmosphere.

"So, you were goin' out for a walk?" Revy questioned uncaringly.

"I was." Dutch made his answer short and sweet as he headed for the door. He pulled the door towards himself, but froze as he turned to look at the back of his colleague's head for the last time, "And for the love of God, don't kill the patient."

Before Revy could spin on the couch and respond in an angered haste, the door was already slamming shut in Dutch's wake. She growled to herself as she tried to speak her peace, "Why the fuck would I do that? If I wanted to do it, I'd do it where people could see." She blurted at the floor around her boots, "But it's all Rock's fault anyway, he got himself knocked out in the first place. He left himself open."

She brought her right boot up and toe punted the underside of the table, causing an empty beer can to topple onto its side and roll over the far edge, landing on the hard floor with a small clatter. "Fuckin' bitches" she muttered as she stood up. She began to meander rather flat-footedly through the furniture ahead of her to get back to her room as she continued her disgruntled murmuring, "As soon as I know which of them did it, they'll find themselves pissin' out the side of their ass."

She walked back through the doorway and stopped as her eyes fell upon the source of her disgruntled attitude. "And just what the hell are you smiling about?" she pointed an accusing finger at Rock's head. "If you're undressing me with that sick mind of yours…" she paused to think of a threat, but moved to the chair with a loud sigh and a shake of the head as she felt her mind was still in its waking up stages, "…just shut up."

She stared at the seat in front of her left leg for a brief second before kicking it over out of the blue with almost no effort whatsoever. "Goddamn it! Even when you're half dead you still find a way to get on my fuckin' nerves! Only a freakin' know-it-all pussy like you could pull that off!" As was expected of an unconscious person, there was only deathly silence in response.

"You'd better wake up soon", she remarked in defiant defeat as she extended an arm out to reach for the toppled chair, "'Cause then you can explain everything about all the shit you've been writin' in here" she said, reaching back to the desk for the thick, black book.

Unfortunately, recent events and her reflections on bad times passed, coupled with the temperature and realisation of Rock's initial feelings of contempt towards her, were only fuelling Revy's distasteful mood.

She flicked the pages across until she came to the newest fold in the top-left corner. However, she wasn't going to read very far, because her invasion of his privacy was about to expel bad blood…

She began on the first sentence:

_"Revy is a selfish…"_

She could understand this. But her mind figured it was going to get rougher since it had started with an uncaring and heavily objective remark.

"…_greedy…"_

This she could also relate to . She was someone who was only focussed on the goods, and the U-Boat reminded her of that.

"…_conniving…" _

That one struck her as a little off, and it showed as she felt her ears heat up.

"…_ungrateful…" _

As every word carried a stronger insult, she could feel her heartbeat increase and her grip tighten around the book like a vice.

"…_merciless…" _

The heat from her ears began to seep under her skin and approach her cheeks.

"…_psychotic…" _

Now it was getting personal.

"…_sadistic…" _

She curled her lips back slightly and began to grind her teeth together.

"…_evil…" _

The heat had spread all across her face as her blood boiled with pure rage. It was showing as her thumbs dug into the pages and started to slowly tear at the thin sheets that caught in her untrimmed nails.

"…_and cowardly bitch."_

Of all the insults she could handle, 'coward' was not one of them. That, in her opinion, was worse than anything she ever possibly endure. With a short but piercing grunt, she threw the book behind her with immense force, giving no heed as to where it landed. Her eyes shifted to look at Rock's temple, and they stayed glued on that area as her fingers were wrapping around the handle of the Beretta under her left arm, and pulling the gun out by force in less than half a second.

"You know what?" she spoke as quietly as she could attempt, but her voice still held the volume rivalling that of a loud conversation. She lined the barrel of her weapon with the side of Rock's head, fully confident in the knowledge that her aim was straight and true.

Without a moment's hesitation, and without answering her own question, she squeezed the trigger.

The lone shot rang through the office and out the windows, giving a helpful hint to passers-by that that was the moment to get some distance between them and the building. However, being Roanapur, most of the people nearby only looked in the general direction of the shot with a somewhat stoic gaze. Some laughed, some shook their heads, other just went back to their current activity as if nothing happened.

Only a few dull screams came back through the windowpanes and reached Revy's ears. The smoke billowed out from the barrel end and temporarily clouded her view. In being the unemotional shell she was at present, she allowed the corners of her mouth to eerily pull back into a deformed smile.

She kept the weapon held out in the position she had fired it in as she finally spoke, "Forget what I said about wakin' up again. You piece of shit." Her eyes were black as tar as she looked through half-shut eyelids. But as the smoke cleared, something didn't look right to her. Upon being enlightened and being proved right about her suspicions, her eyes shot wide open.

Rock was still lying there with his tiny smile, but there was no mixture of deep red and black forming a hole in the side of his head, nor a display of red splatters and brain matter on the wall behind him. She looked with a more attentive eye and saw smoke emerging from a new hole that had been punched into the wall. If a straight line were to protrude from the hole in the direction of the impact, it would end up dead on in the centre of Revy's Cutlass barrel.

Revy was totally speechless. _'I…I was aiming for his fucking head! There's no way!'_ her brain screamed out.

* * *

"_**What the fuck!?" **_The killer mentality had emerged in a screaming fit. _**"I know where I was aiming! That bullet shoulda' gone through that asshole's skull! There's no fucking way!"**_

"_You didn't miss, you know."_ Another, much quieter voice echoed through the emptiness.

"_**What?" **_The Killer demanded.

"_You didn't miss. You were aiming at the wall when you pulled the trigger, so you hit the wall."_ The Compassion was calm, but had a hint of a shiver behind it.

"_**I wasn't shooting for the fucking wall!" **_The Killer's voice bawled into the nothingness.

After a brief moment, The Compassion began to quietly giggle like a smitten schoolgirl. _"You're right." _It said, finally ceasing it's immature snigger, _"_You _weren't aiming for the wall. _I _was."_

There followed a long moment of tense silence. It felt like an eternity had passed before The Killer broke it in style. _**"What? What the hell are you talking about?"**_

"_While you think you have full control, I can do things with this body just like you. I'm surprised you haven't understood it yet. It's simple: I moved the gun as you pulled the trigger."_ The Compassion gave nothing away but also had nothing to hide as it truthfully admitted to the 'inaccuracy' of Revy's shot in its calm demeanour.

"**_Why in the fuck would you do that?"_** The Killer demanded rather unintelligently.

_"You were going to kill him."_ The voice answered obviously.

_"**That was the whole fucking point you dumb shit! Nobody calls me a coward and walks away with their life!"**_

"_But he's not walking is he?"_

_"**Don't get trivial with me, bitch. You saw what he wrote." **_The Killer's voice hissed, it sounded like it was speaking through clenched teeth.

_"We've been through this once already. I hope you're aware that he wrote that over eight months ago, when things were a lot different."_

There was no speech in response, just a low, intimidating growl.

_"You want to know why I did it, right?"_

_"**I think I'm fucking entitled!" **_The Killer impatiently shouted back.

_"Because…"_ The Compassion hesitated, as if almost unsure whether its answer was going to be legitimate enough. _"Because it's not his time to go."_

_"**Oh yeah, great excuse!" **_The sarcasm in the retort was mind-numbingly blatant. _**"Let me tell you something, 'sis'. If anyone insults me like that, it's their time to go, period. No apologies accepted, no forgiveness given, no…fucking…mercy."**_ The voice had turned dark and disturbing.

_"Regardless of what you say, I know it's not his time yet. I _know_ there's a reason, but…I haven't figured it out yet. And until I do, I will keep stopping you."_ As if to finally find some resolve and inspiration, the voice picked up in intensity, but still exuded its air of composure. _"Let me make a deal with you. Every time I see those nine-mils in his face, and every time you might try to hit him while he lays there totally defenceless; I will be there to stop or redirect them. But if my reason for stopping you now isn't good enough when I do find it, then…I'll let you have your way. Until then, leave him alone."_

_"**You scheming little whore!"**_

_"By the way, I think our arm's aching right about now."_ The Compassion's voice began to drift away.#

* * *

Revy's arm immediately dropped down to her side after holding the weight of the pistol up for so long in her frozen, statue-like seating position. At the same time as her arm, her head slumped down, forcing her eyes to gaze at the dull grey floor. The heat in her face wasn't subsiding, nor was her clenched jaw. Her thoughts all caved in on her and wouldn't let her resolve her situation, they were bombarding every feeling and every potential move she could think of making. She finally stood up with enough force that her back knocked the chair over, making it land with a hollow clatter.

"Fuck this!" she screamed toward the floor before she bolted straight for the door, practically ripping it off its hinges as she tried to escape. As she turned to the fire door leading down to the dock she began whispering the same phrase to herself over and over.

"Fuck this…fuck this…" She continued as she jumped down the steep staircase, taking three steps for every single pace. As she reached the bottom, landing with a distinct 'thud', she briefly cut her repetitive speech as she walked down the long jettee towards the Lagoon. Just as she was within distance to jump aboard, she turned to face the building behind her and threw a ragged air punch in its direction.

"Fuck…you!" she spat, both figuratively and then literally onto the wood panelling in front of her as she hopped aboard the deck of the PT boat and hurriedly entered through the front service hatch.

* * *

**Three hours later**

Near the city centre, Benny was walking through the bustling streets with a medium sized box tucked under his right arm; his free left hand was stowed inside his trouser pocket.

Although he had acquired his desired items within the first hour of leaving, he was apprehensive to return once he had heard a gunshot in the distance. While gunshots were nothing new in Roanapur, this one had made a little metallic chime as the firing pin hit the primer and the gunpowder ignited. He'd heard that type of shot so many times that he knew the offending weapon as well as its user. Since hearing that shot two-and-a-half hours ago, he had kept his distance and tried to find ways to cut down his spreading boredom.

However, boredom wasn't the main feeling consuming his thoughts. There was a plethora of them: mainly sorrow, pity and fear, all of which he felt towards Rock. The poor guy was stuck with a woman who had absolutely zero control of her temper, which gave fruition to Benny's pity; his sorrow was extended from not being able to empathise with Rock's condition; he figured that being catatonic must really suck, unless his mind tried to relieve the stress of it all with pleasant images. Finally, his fear grew after hearing the shot. After all, he could tell that sound from a mile away, he thought Dutch must have heard it too, but he wasn't in any hurry to get back there and risk taking a bullet. But his fear wasn't for his own safety, he was beginning to worry that she might have actually done him in this time. Nothing was stopping her, so it would be a perfect opportunity. As much as Benny tried to shake it off, it kept coming back and hitting him: he was genuinely afraid that Rock might very well be dead this time.

For what must have been the fourth time in five minutes, he shook his head with vigour in a vain attempt to eject the feeling. Despite his wishes to not feel bored, it still came back to haunt him. Just after gaining his new equipment, he'd taken half an hour to kick back a few beverages in Rowan's strip club. He enjoyed the company…slightly…but even mentioning the words 'girlfriend' and 'in a relationship' in the same sentence did nothing to repel one red-head who insisted on stroking the inside of his thigh.

Despite the drinks, his stomach still demanded more in terms of solid sustenance, and he figured it was time to suck it up and face whatever sight greeted him once he returned to the office. He'd go through all that just so he could eat something. He knew a quick shortcut back, and it just so happened to be approaching from round the next corner. As he turned left to follow the sidewalk facing directly towards the sun and its burning radiance, he saw a few dark speckles on the concrete that offered itself below his feet. It didn't take a rocket scientist to tell it was dried blood. Ten steps later and Benny cut to the right to make his way across the road, forgetting rather stupidly to make sure there were no vehicles beforehand. As soon as he had hit the other side, he continued forward and into an alley that remained almost completely blackened thanks to the buildings that insisted on banning the sun's presence.

He'd only made it ten metres before the noise of the crowds were swept away like driftwood on a rapid. Now it was just he, a few trashcans, the occasional rat, and the odd drip of liquid hitting the ground after separating from its source on a floor above him that populated the dank locale. He continued on without a care, he had used this shortcut many times in the past and he'd never had a problem, so he figured today was no exception. He was just over halfway down the long stretch, but froze once he saw a dark figure practically stumble as if drunk into the thin corridor ahead of him. The silhouette was small and slightly hunched over, it looked like both of its arms were dragging a large bag beside it, creating an awful scratching noise as the fabric of the container ground against the concrete. However, he didn't have to bother worrying about what the figure may have looked like, he could tell just from the dress sense.

The person was shorter than he was by about a foot, with a knee-length skirt that freely swayed with each step of the wearer. Every step rang out thanks to the heeled, but still heavy boots, which looked a size too big in comparison to the somewhat scrawny legs. The short but volumous hair flowed with the contour lines of the person's head, and two long bangs extended down either side of the wearer's face. Still his mind refused to budge out of both spite and fear. Fear…he was going to have to face two types of it now.

Only when both acquaintances were within three metres of one another did they finally recognise the other's face. Benny looked down at the black, viciously highlighted eyes of Sawyer.

_'Of all the people…it had to be her.'_ Benny cursed in his mind.

"Oh," the petite young woman said in her standard monotone, "It's you." Her body was giving away the fact she was straining to keep the bag held up. She finally gave up and let go to catch a few moments rest while she milked the half-scared look of the man stood in her path. The bag slammed to the ground, rustling the lining as its contents briefly rolled inside.

Benny shot a quick glance of the woman's 'package'; it was a large travelling suitcase, both sides were knobbly and extremely uneven as they swelled outward, as if begging for the seams to burst in order to relieve the tension. Benny put two and two together: Sawyer's underworld occupation, and the fact she was struggling with an over-packed suitcase that he had no doubt was carrying something that definitely wasn't clothing.

"What do you want?" the Ultravoice slowly articulated its user vocal actions into a coherent voice.

"N…Nothing, really" Benny shrugged his shoulders in a vain attempt to look unfazed; he looked down at the suitcase, and then slowly trailed his eyes to meet the dark and drilling stare of the cleaner. "I hope that's not Rock in there", he smiled in an attempt to lighten up the environment.

Sawyer did nothing in response, she just stared him down without moving any part of her body. Her arms lay limp at her sides while her feet sat a shoulder's width apart. Most of her upper torso heaved as she silently gasped for air. Pulling a weight just under twice that of her own was a hard duty.

"Unfortunately, it's not." Despite the biological's heavy breathing, the mechanical voice box spoke like it was sat on a comfy sofa. "But you could take this one's place if you'd like." She plastered an evil grin across her face while pointing at the suitcase by her foot, which made Benny shuffle nervously.

"No thanks," he calmly replied, "We've already got one guy out of order." She immediately knew to whom Benny was referring. Benny suddenly remembered the little piece of information that Dutch had shared with him that morning before Revy had woken up; it was his one trump card, and he was certain it would keep her at bay.

"By the way…" In accepting jobs, people always had to listen out for additionals from the clientele. Sawyer hated them; they weighed her job down with conditions and made it more difficult than it should be. Usually these additionals stank of bad news, and this one coming from Benny felt no different to her based on his tone. She began to squint in scepticism as she kept an eye on his mildly shifting posture.

Fighting against his now partially diminishing fear, Benny took the necessary steps to end up face-to-face with the petite Goth. Only 40 centimetres separated them and he noticed that her grin had vanished.

"Dutch and I know which one of you did it" His voice may have been calm and quiet, but the statement itself carried a lot of urgency.

Sawyer's eyes flickered in surprise, but she tried to hide it as she turned her head away. "I don't know what you're talking about", her Ultravoice blurted unemotionally, successfully hiding the surprise of its owner.

Benny let a small smile spread. "Now we both know that's not true. It was something involving Rock's face, lipstick, and a pair of li-" He only got as far as that before Sawyer cut him off.

"Fine. So what if you know? What are you going to do about it?" Sawyer looked back up at the man with her stone cold dead stare. Her posture gleamed with pure defiance.

"You should be more considerate. Revy doesn't know who it was, and she was steaming once she saw his face." Benny informed her, "As soon as she finds out the culprit, and believe me she will at some point, she'll go off the damn reservation. Trust me on that."

Sawyer's eyes widened substantially with Benny's warning. Benny waved his hand almost as a 'don't worry' sign. "I won't say anything. However, I will say this: Don't let it happen again. Okay?" Benny kept his gentle smile up, but his voice made the sincerity all the more clear. Despite the fact there was no ultimatum, Sawyer only nodded in acknowledgement of the sound advice. Unluckily for the cleaner, she had only encountered Revy in a fight at a time when she wasn't incredibly pissed off. In hindsight, she had no idea what the Chinese-American could pull off if she lost her rag completely.

"Good", Benny retained his smile and continued walking. He looked back over his shoulder as he approached the street on the other side, "See you around."

Sawyer looked at the back of Benny's Hawaiian shirt before focussing her attention toward the over-packed suitcase once again. She sighed in silent grief before grasping both her hands back around the top handle and began her long expedition back to the U.G. Pork building.

* * *

**18:43 hrs**

Benny had hurried back to the dock as soon as his eventful meeting with Sawyer had ended. He was grateful to discover that Rock was still breathing, but there was no Revy anywhere in sight. He figured she'd either gone to the Church of Violence for a while or headed off to one of her many other drinking spots; spots that she never invited anyone else to. The first thing he noticed was that her room smelled of fresh gunpowder, confirming his suspicions about a discharge; whether deliberate or accidental, he couldn't tell.

Even in Revy's rage, she had somehow managed to keep the book hidden. It had landed behind a bunch of cardboard boxes that lay in the very corner of the room. Benny had walked in with the sole intent of checking on Rock, so the patient's secret appeared to still be safe for the moment.

All the day's occurrences had been passed on to Dutch soon after he arrived back at around 16:20. Benny of all people knew not to bother asking where his boss had gone, much like Dutch hadn't asked what equipment Benny had bought. Benny, however, told him anyway, since it was all for the crew's benefit. He had ordered a new set of 4 wireless communicators to replace the models they already had on the Lagoon. These had a longer range, longer battery life and better noise cancelling capabilities. Recently the tech expert had realised that their old headset frequencies could have easily been tapped into. As a result, he had called in an unknown favour in order to get his hands on a frequency scrambler. Dutch reminded himself to give Benny something special for his birthday, as this would ensure integrity of communications during jobs. The interaction with Sawyer made the well-built American laugh wholeheartedly, he knew he was going to have fun with this scenario in the future.

What surprised the blonde the most, though, was Dutch's seemingly numb reaction to the gunshot and Revy's disappearance. He merely shrugged his shoulders in almost blatant disregard and claimed that she'd come back of her own accord. His voice however, gave his real thoughts away: disappointment and anger. They discussed her potential whereabouts in only minor detail, as Dutch suggested that she needed time.

* * *

**22:31 hrs**

'Asshole', 'useless', 'pussy', 'shithead'…those were but a few of the short mutterings spewed from the lips of one of Roanapur's most feared women as she sat idling at the bow of the Lagoon. Her legs were freely dangling over the edge, wading in the cool air that sluiced around them. Scattered behind her across the deck were innumerable amounts of dead cigarette butts and the occasional crushed beer can, some of which ended up floating away in the tide as she threw them in her frustration.

"He wont…" her lips curled around yet another lit tobacco stick, ejecting a voice that could have been mistaken as a mere sigh. There were no hands to remove the cigarette in order to allow her proper bilabial movement, since her own were supporting her weight from behind, "He won't…fucking…die." Her eyes were almost glazed over as she maintained a dead stare in the direction of the horizon. She had seen the sky above it change many different shades over the past hours, and yet her mind was too inundated of itself to care.

Now, in the dark blue sky, she could see the weak shimmering of some of the far distant stars and planets that lay way beyond her own world, a world she knew she'd never be able to leave. The moonlight was left unbroken by a completely cloudless sky, giving a tiny silvery sheen to everything it could pour itself over.

"What do I have to do?" she rhetorically asked herself.

When she had first entered the boat in her initial rage, she had punched numerous walls, kicked two crates over – stubbing her toe in the process -, and raided almost the entire supply of onboard rations in a meagre attempt to drown out her own angst, which had hammered her mind ever since she had left her room.

"I've killed men tougher than _him_," she practically hissed at the last word, "and never even blinked." She spoke every syllable in slow strokes, as if she was articulating to a young child. "Why can't I kill…a simple fucking white-collar Jap…when he's in a coma?"

She paused for a second as she allowed only a gentle breeze to fling her bangs out of her face in response, and punched the metal panelling she was sat on with force in order to vent her anger upon not finding an answer.

"I don't…understand" she whined as her head drooped to gawk at the dull grey metal she was sat on. She grew deathly quiet as she once again retreated into her psyche, desperately searching for a reason to her...'compassion'. She had heard the footsteps from a mile away, but she waited to talk when she knew they were within ten feet of her.

"Piss off, Dutch", she spoke just loud enough for her fellow American to get the hint. The man came to a halt in minor respect of his employee's wishes.

"It's not very nice to shoot a man while he's sleeping." He waited for a response, but there was nothing. Revy was as still as a corpse, she didn't even twitch a finger. Dutch stood tall with his arms folded and his head tilted slightly forward. The creases just above his eyes made it obvious that he was scowling.

"Revy, you know what I'm going to say."

Revy cut in at that point, "Then you can fuck off", her voice was still tantalisingly quiet. "That way you won't waste the precious air you need to spout that Descartes shit you love so much. Thinking you know the answer to everything, but knowing all the while that it just makes things worse."

She could feel the now very intimidating footfalls of Dutch's boots approaching her, rattling the metal she was sat upon. She did nothing to resist as Dutch wrapped his fingers around the back of Revy's vest and pulled her towards him. She toppled over, landing flat against the deck on her back. Her eyes displayed no surprise as Dutch got down on one knee beside her and was immediately in her face.

"Are you on this team or not, Revy?" Dutch's teeth were welded together as his words seeped through them like acid. Revy's own frown increased at the question, but the cigarette remained attached to her lips, letting smoke rise up into the nostrils of the man dwarfing her.

To display his impatience, Dutch grabbed Revy's vest again with his large right hand and lifted her upper body off the ground, bringing her face closer to his. He growled once again, "I said, are you in this fucking team or not?"

Revy sighed and looked away in defeat if but for a second or two. Her hands lay limp by her side, unwilling to follow her brain's commands to help her support herself.

"What the hell made you turn like this, Revy? I don't see how Rock could be the cause of it." Revy inwardly grimaced at that, but was brought back to reality as Dutch shook her again. "Just what in the hell is wrong with you?" Revy maintained her stare at the sunglasses of the man towering above her. She felt her anger return once more as she finally became uncomfortable with being downsized in the manner that she was.

"It's none of your fucking business! You're just a fuckin' hypocrite, Dutch!" she yelled straight in his face, "Why do you keep on asking about what we do in our spare time when we're not allowed to ask you? You're desire to control your 'team'," she added a patronising tone to the word, "like lap dogs would give a fascist like Hitler a run for his fuckin' money!"

Revy's retort was immediately returned with her body slamming back into the deck. Her head flung back and also impacted with the metal surface. She grunted as she brought her left hand up to rub the spot that was now rapidly increasing in soreness. Dutch was still holding onto her as he leaned back in.

"Tell me what happened in Japan, Revy! You and Rock were on good terms like never before when you got back. But ever since that explosion, you've been nothing but a splinter in my ass! You almost screwed that job Chang gave us 'cause one of the guys asked you for just a goddamn phone number!"

Revy couldn't reply as she was more focussed on the swelling spot at the base of her skull.

"You're pissed because Rock saved you aren't you? God forbid that someone saved the great 'Revy Two-Hands' from death other than herself! Just remember that you'd be dead right now if it wasn't for what he did! So how do you thank him? By almost blowing his fucking brains out?"

Revy suddenly swung her right fist out with what could only be described as a miniature demonic roar. Her hand neatly fitted into the gap between Dutch's jaw line and cheekbone, taking the man completely off guard. She felt his lower jaw unnaturally shift as soon as her knuckles had smashed into the side of his face. Dutch's grip didn't falter as his head snapped across with the impact, freezing for a second before slowly looking back at her.

"Did I hit a nerve?" Dutch practically jeered.

"FUCK YOU!!" she screamed in his face again. "You wanna know what happened in the land of fake smiles and blood money? Well, I'll fuckin' tell ya!"

Dutch let his grip loosen only a fraction as he awaited the explanation.

"Nothin' happened, Dutch! We did the job, no questions asked, and fucked off back to this shithole!" she took note of Dutch's facial muscles as she spoke, they shifted from anger to anxiety, and then anxiety to disappointment.

"Oh my God," she gasped in genuine shock, remembering that disappointed look from somewhere before, "You thought I fucked him, didn't you?"

Dutch's left eyebrow twitched, which was enough to give him away completely. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, his silence was all that was needed. Unable to keep herself in close proximity anymore, she successfully wriggled out of Dutch's grasp and took a large hop backwards in the direction of the cabin.

"You sick fuck!" She pointed a sharp, accusing finger in Dutch's direction, "You and Benny put a bet down didn't you? Do you think I'm some sorta' slut or somethin'?" her voice carried utter disgust as each word was ejected like raw bile. "Some fuckin' employer you are!"

Dutch was still on his knee, now looking up at the highly offended woman. He hung his head in embarrassment and slight shame; the game was now up. Revy didn't continue; the damage was done to both her ego, and Dutch's powers of negotiation. Revy turned away as Dutch stood back up, running a thumb across his cheek from where she had sucker punched him.

"Revy-" Dutch only got the two syllables out before being cut off.

"Stay the fuck away from me, you son of a bitch." Her voice put the message across as more of a warning than a threat. Her eyes had almost turned feral with animalistic rage, and it was a good thing Dutch couldn't see them, otherwise he would have likely wet himself. She was trying her best to hold it back for the sake of not killing her own boss, but she could feel herself losing it like she had earlier. One thing was certain to her now: if they both stood there because of their own stubbornness, she would kill him.

Dutch took one step back toward the jettee before seeing Revy walk off with an immense weight towards the cabin door. She had swallowed her pride and got out before she knew more harm could be done. Dutch watched her silhouette as it moved behind the windowpanes and vanished into a darkened room nearer the hold.

He sighed in exasperated relief. He knew he should consider himself the luckiest man alive to have got away with only a punch to the face after his little stunt. He jumped back across the small watery chasm and landed on the wooden floorboards. He slipped his hands back in his pockets and muttered one word as he walked what felt like a long mile back to the building.

"Shit."

* * *

As soon as she had slammed the brig door behind her, Revy had marched straight to the wall on her left, panting like a dog, and punched it with more force than she had with Dutch. She only felt a slight tingle roll up her arm, and wasn't satisfied. She reached back once again and slammed her fist into the unforgiving steel, feeling it more this time. Her fury finally usurped her control, and she flung the fist in a constant one-armed barrage against the wall. One was fairing, the other, soon after, was not. Revy's glove was in complete tatters along the knuckle line, exposing the source of the dark red liquid that had been leaking away from behind its seams.

She began to whimper with every other punch, as the pain finally became enough of a reality for her. Her teeth were grit, and her jaw muscles were becoming sore from the pressure they would not stop exerting. Finally she knew she couldn't hold on, and slumped to her knees in demonstration of her self-induced frailty. As she winced from behind her clamped eyelids, she felt a new fluid flooding her eyes, desperately trying to seek freedom. She let it go, and the tears, formed from a mixture of pain, guilt and anger, finally cascaded down her smooth, tanned cheeks like a slow moving stream.

She sobbed aloud as she felt her diaphragm tighten up, begging to be relieved of the unbearable tension. All she could hear in the confines of the four walls were the sounds of her own turmoil and despair, a sound she had forgotten for a long time, and hearing it again only made her cry more. Revy's exhaustion consumed her as she flopped over onto her side with no control, the impact of her shoulder banging against the floor echoed through the room before dying like a bell's chime. Despite her wish to fall into the depths of sleep in order to rid herself of the torment, her body mutinied, forcing her to continue through the stress.

After what had felt like hours to her, when in reality it was only minutes, she became quieter as unconsciousness became inevitable.

* * *

There she was, stood in the basking heat of another glorious day in the South China Sea, which contradicted her own life in a cold New York City. Her hair was blown back in the wind like a flag at full mast during a heavy storm. She looked down at herself and admired her neat and tidy presentation. She wore a white short-sleeved business shirt that was tucked into a knee length dark grey skirt, the hem of which was solid with no patterns or wacky stitching. Her black and fully glossed shoes were raised a few inches at the heel, giving her an inch or so of extra height. In her right hand she flipped a transparent floppy disc across her fingers, contemplating the potential data it held.

Just as she looked back up, she saw a glimmer of light coming from a black spot just below the horizon. Its size grew bigger by the minute, leaving a small disturbance in the water crests it skipped over. It was a boat; grey like a winter sky and with an engine that sounded like a growling tiger.

_'Just passing merchants'_, she thought to herself. But five seconds later, she knew she was wrong. At the bow of the boat was a man dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and thoroughly torn denim pants that frayed like wild strings just above his ankles. He wore a smile that promised nothing but grief and misery, and never pulled his greed-filled eyes off the ship as they blew past at speed.

The scariest thing about the man, however, was that he was holding a rocket launcher.

* * *

**A/N: Wow...just over 13k words. Took me ages to finish that off. I advise that you read the notes below.**

**Okay, first of all let me extend my deepest apologies for keeping you hanging on this chapter as I know it's been over a month since the last one. I had two things hit me since chapter 7: 1. I got writer's block for about two weeks. 2. Real life pulled a number on me, and it left me with almost no free time to write.**

******PLEASE REVIEW! I appreciate any feedback with open arms, and I accept any constructive criticisms one might have. SO REVIEW PLEASE! **

**For the people who are wondering "Did Sawyer kiss Rock?" or "So, Sawyer kissed Rock, huh?", m****y reply is this: I am not confirming, nor am I denying, that Sawyer may or may not have planted a lovey-dovey kiss on Rock's face. The reasoning around the mystery will become clearer in a later chapter. I made Benny say what he did in this chapter because it never definitively pointed the finger of blame at the Goth, but it didn't necessarily get her off the hook either.**

**I really wanted to take my time with this chapter and the next, the restaurant was a pretty good character development scene in the anime, and I want to do it justice through Rock's written perspective.**

**Add this to your story alert list if it's not on there already! You can favourite it if you like it enough!**

**I don't know when I'll get the next chapter out what with real life getting in my way now. Until next time, it's sayonara!**


	9. Role Reversal - Part One

**Disclaimer: The Black Lagoon series and its characters are the intellectual property of Rei Hiroe, I own nothing. I wouldn't even dare try, because Revy would surely sodomise me.  
**

**HERE IT FINALLY IS! I won't take up any of your time at the top of the page here. I will explain everything at the bottom after you've read what you've been waiting so long for. Just read and (hopefully) enjoy!**

* * *

**'The Diary of an Ex-Businessman'**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 9 – 'Role Reversal (Part One)'**

She could only look on in stunned silence, bewitched by the intimidating boat that tore through the calming waters behind the almost un-laden cargo vessel. It steeply banked back to the left 180-degrees to cut across its own previously lain path, easily demonstrating its superior manoeuvrability. As the smaller of the grey giants glided over the crests at a much slower speed than before, she had a better view of the man who had previously made her spine tremor in a manner that not even her boss could cause. This time, the eyes of the man at the bow were drilling back into her own, as if to hungrily feed off the look of her fear like it was a drug for which he yearned.

She stepped back from her position by the starboard railing until she felt the cold metal of a wall restricting her and curled her slender fingers around the hardened plastic of the disc, exerting enough pressure to slightly bend its casing. It was her duty to keep that disc safe, and even if it didn't turn out to be the target of these… people, she would still defend it as if her job was on the line, which, in matter of fact, it was.

The boat had cut into the path of the freighter and held its position thirty metres beyond, getting a loud bellow from a horn for their reckless manoeuvre. The noise had caught the attention of some of the crew, who had run to the furthest reaches of the bow in order to get a glimpse of the commotion. However, they were running back into the holds almost as fast as they'd emerged.

_'They must have seen that rocket launcher'_, she thought to herself. She kept her shoes cemented as best to the deck as was possible, but neither the slick surface due to the sea spray, nor her slightly-raised heels, were doing her balance any favours. She flung her arms out to either side, eager to find some sort of protrusion on which to hold, but it was nothing but flat, rough metal that greeted her slender fingers.

_'Aren't I just the luckiest businesswoman to ever grace this planet?'_ She chided in her mindscape, _'First it's a totally unceremonious send-off from the port of God-knows-where, and now I'm stuck on a dilapidated boat being stared at by mentalists carrying rocket launchers. I swear…my day could not get worse'_. As if out of spite towards only herself, a man's voice cascaded over the ship in a canny sound, like it was coming from a radio.

"**Listen up assholes! You'd better slow the fuck down, 'cause we're gonna be comin' up there. If you don't want me to waste this RPG on that piece of shit you call a boat, then I suggest you heed my warning! You've got thirty seconds to kill the engine… starting fifteen seconds ago!**" The voice was highly confident and commanding, but ironically sounded kind of weedy, much like somebody who would be in her line of work. The accent, however, wasn't like one that suitably fit the 'ghetto' manner of speech.

She shut her eyes and groaned, slamming her head back against the wall of the superstructure and further ruining her messy hair bun.

"My day…just got _a lot_ worse", she whined in almost-believable sadness. Within seconds, the drilling sound of the diesel engines under the deck waned away, letting the even more annoying sound of the circling seagulls pierce her ears, totally overcoming the supposedly calming noise of the gentle tide lapping against the hull.

_'Why, oh why did I say 'no' to that cigarette earlier?'_ She pondered, feeling the ship's speed dwindle second after second, much like her motivation towards her duty, her job and her whole career. In preparation of boarding the defenceless vessel, the small yet menacing-sounding boat veered steeply to starboard, the angle instigated by the turn had no effect on the lithe figure that had paced with ironically gentle steps back towards the bulk of the growling machine.

The dull silver of the harbinger-of-the-day's misfortunes was slowly revealed to her deep green eyes; panel after panel of thick, sturdy steel reflected the rays of the high sun back at the oblivious target of their owner's transgressions. As if struck by fear itself the azure tides, cut apart remorselessly by the bounding keel of the nimble and threatening vehicle, seemed to part with haste so as not to interfere. As the boat reached the apex of a slow and sweeping arc that would bring it abreast to its victim's starboard stern, the woman finally felt the sting in her chest that indicated her fight-or-flight instinct.

It was obvious what a woman of her timid nature and current state of dress would do, but this was the middle of nowhere! Where would she go if she chose to run? She was just a by-standing passenger to the crew of this apparently-innocent ship, like Hell they would openly help her seek refuge without a hefty wad of cash; they were paid to courier her and the disc across the sea, not act as bodyguards. A vast array of possible hiding places passed through her mind, all whilst the blatant uncertainty that she even was the actual target of these villains hung over her. And it was for the latter reason that she moved no further than five paces to her left to enter the main structure through a thick bulkhead hatch.

Despite her new veil of semi-opaque shadow, she realised that trying to run for safety would only prolong and intensify her fear of being discovered… how ironic. Because of that, she sighed with defeat before leaning back against another rough metal wall, its minute chill becoming amplified by the scattered patches of sweat across her back. Even as the outside noises rattled through the hatch next to her, she could easily discern the animalistic growl of the smaller ship coming alongside its prey. Numerous crewmen ran in scattered panic, no doubt with thoughts similar to hers running through their minds. Some shouted in an unintelligible language, possibly Thai or Vietnamese, others simply mumbled in what could be argued as oncoming insanity.

There was a sudden and very distinctive metal clanging sound emanating from the exterior, but it wasn't enough to stop the woman's internal worry over the coming fate of her career. She had been given that disc with specific orders not to let anyone other than the planned contacts handle it, and to not even dream of gazing upon its contents with her 'lowly' eyes. They could have worded the demand with at least some gentle vocabulary; she was working in one of the most famous cities in the world for crying out loud, not some drug-laden back alley: threats were supposed to be hidden in semi-polite conversation where she came from, not thrown out like a wrestler with an attitude.

Those words were just relegated to her memory now, her mind staying focussed on the job at hand despite the current setback. Before she could wonder further as to the possible contents to the disc, more voices screamed out above the crew's worried nattering, their tones tight and commanding with little room for funny business.

"By the wall, get on your ass! Move!" She couldn't see the commotion that was occurring out on the deck from inside the superstructure, but it was pretty obvious that it wasn't anything related to normal ship-board activities.

"Get on the goddamn floor, or the tooth fairy gets some new merchandise!"

Now that was a threat she had never heard before. One thing she could discern, however, was the deep and thick American accent of the man shouting along the deck. Odd, the United States was on the other side of the world from where they currently sat. Narrowly interlaced with the – to these people, at least - foreigner was a higher-toned voice, but one that sounded off as if to bring continued mischief.

"Urusai!"

Huh, so at least one of the offenders seemed to sit closer to home. Seconds later, she heard a dulled clash of metal followed by a cry of distinguishable pain.

_'Great, I bet they've got weapons. Crowbars, maybe, for up-close stuff?'_ She internally pondered, completely overlooking the fact that these guys were packing a _rocket launcher_, they probably had stuff a little more high-end than bland pieces of wrought iron. Thinking that this couldn't possibly get any worse, she brought a hand up to brush her annoyingly ticklish and sweat-laminated tendrils of dark red hair away from her face. Before she could whisper such words to herself, the light pouring in through the bulkhead darkened.

Out of fear and curiosity, although primarily the former, she looked back to the open hatch. Her once partially-closed eyes shot open to reveal every micrometre of white possible, and the hand that had previously sorted out her hair had frozen in an awkward position by her shoulder, with her elbow suspended near her face.

Looking straight back at her green eyes was, by physical definition, pure darkness. Intimidating black circles fought her down in an unwinnable staring contest, the grey borders and darker grey lines that spiralled inward towards a perpetual nothingness gave a lethal decoration to an otherwise unknowable object. She forced her eyes up to follow a road of gleaming silver, before it hit a barricade of tanned skin, wide smiling lips and teeth that needed some brush work.

This definitely wasn't how she imagined her first encounter with a pirate, putting aside the fact that she never actually wanted to meet one…ever. He stood as motionless as the dead, both pistols trained to the very centre of her brow in a message that said anything but compliance would cease her existence.

"Konnichiwa… umi no hime-chan."

_'Japanese.'_ Despite the most immediate issue, which would be the two guns in her face, she couldn't help but let her trivia knowledge get the better of her. Even after that, she moved to take in the man behind the weapons. His lopsided grin was all she had to see in order to know that this pirate had believed he'd hit the jackpot; but for what reason was something she was scared of finding out. A powerless woman in the hands of a man with the ability to end lives usually didn't work out well for the former. Abducted women were commonly sold off as sex slaves or kept as trophies and personal toys in the criminal underworld. Suddenly, it was these notions that she found herself worrying about more.

Hey, she was allowed to be selfish at this moment, right?

The black, scraggily hair of her company sought to absorb all hints of light that dared attack it, and his equally dark eyes could just as easily be mistaken for the barrels pointing straight at her. Only then did she realise that this was the man who had visually reaped her soul as his boat blew by before he had boarded. Not to mention his apparent nationality gave foundation as to why his Americanised style of threat, which was so adamantly thrown through a loudspeaker earlier, seemed out of place.

A sharp nod over his shoulder from the gunman, back in the direction of the bulkhead, was a clear indication in her eyes to move, even though his own never stopped boring into her. The fear in her mind stopped its signals from reaching her limbs, which somehow ached despite not having moved.

_'Move'_, her internal voice shook as if to beg to her body, _'Move or die. Is that such a hard choice?'_

Fortunately, and warily, as if the surface beneath her shoes were made of egg shells, her back foot crept out to begin its journey in the man's direction; it turned out that loss of life was a very good incentive for bodily motivation. Despite her forward movement, her assailant stood firm, pistol barrels still staring her down as if to dare her into trying something. She really…really wanted him to move; just nudging a shoulder or brushing her shirt sleeve against him might have made her think that she'd have caught something contagious. Maybe pirates had a smaller sense of personal space than normal people…

Whatever the case may have been, she had to put the fear aside and comply. Just as her collarbone was about to graze one of the extended Beretta barrels, the man shifted his weight aside to let her pass, his sight and aim never deviating from her person.

The vast blanket of midday sunlight was already waiting as her leading right foot shakily emerged into the open sea breeze; but aside from the seagulls hovering and cawing above, the ambient background noise was notably absent. Unlike barely half-an-hour earlier, the crewmen were no longer nattering amongst one another in a drabble of mixed dialects, there were no metallic clangs from the far end of the ship to indicate heavy lifting and, as she had already noted earlier, there was no longer a constant drone echoing from the stern, where the massive diesel engines forced the propellers to churn through the water.

The reason for such audible disappearances became evident to her as she walked back along the side of the superstructure. With hands tentatively raised besides her shoulders, palms outward in a display of submission and compliance, her pupils sucked in the image of at least ten members of the crew sat in a small and shady outcrop, cross legged and with hands interlocked behind their heads. Towering above their small forms was a dark hulk of a man, the musculature of his arms beaming from thin tendrils of darkened shadow. His neck sat hidden behind the high collar of a green flak jacket, but the sharp lines of his jaw, gleaming bald scalp and neat facial hair around his chin were easily revealed to the high sun. While he certainly seemed intimidating from a physical sense, the gleaming white metal of a revolver in his left hand was all that was needed to display the open threat he posed.

She may not have been wearing high-heeled shoes that snapped against the deck, but even her gentle footfalls were enough to gain this second man's attention. He turned to face her, revealing yet more ocular darkness in the form of a pair of circular sunglasses, but she could still feel his eyes give her a once over. A snide, lop-sided grin broke his emotionless visage before he nodded. At first she believed it was directed at her, but the firm shove she received between her shoulder blades was enough to tell her she was wrong.

"Thank God we found one as dumb as this", the Japanese man behind her started, "She was just standing in the open, clear as day, didn't even give a shit." She could effectively hear the smug grin through which his voice travelled. "Remember the last guy? That Okinawan suit who tried to cram his body between some engine pipes?"

The black man ahead of her, whom she regrettably made eye contact with once more, said nothing at his associate's remark; instead, he took one strong step in her direction. And then another. And then another. Within three strides, he was close enough that she could smell the sweat staining the armpits of his grey undershirt.

"I believe you have something we want." He stated sharply, his voice a deep, almost soothing baritone. She blinked, realising that her brain had just steadfastly false-started. This was just the kind of situation she wanted to avoid: failing to answer a question in front of somebody holding a gun. Then it occurred to her, how had he pegged her?

"What…what makes you think I'm the one who has this…thing?" Finally, her mouth got the better of her, and her distinguishable American accent greeted their ears. Her eyes fell straight to the floor, her false air of confidence betrayed by her body language…not to mention her own firm belief that she was their target.

"It ain't hard to figure out, since you're dressed like a high-roller's whore." The Japanese said from behind her. "And even if you were just that, I doubt these worthless shits would have anywhere near the money to keep you aboard."

"That, plus your accent." He may have appeared to be the muscle of the group, but the black man also possessed some brains. She was, however, mostly surprised at how this man towering over her had yet to bring his firearm into the equation. "So where is it? Don't run me round the tree now, little lady, or my friend here might just give you a makeover."

This whole thing, she figured, must have been practiced by the duo elsewhere, since the Japanese had started cracking his gloved knuckles right next to her left ear, making her anxiously jolt at his sudden proximity.

"What a pretty face it is", the sarcasm in the smaller man's tone was palpable, "Would be a shame if it lost some teeth."

Her nerves were on a knife edge, she had a man threatening physical violence on her left, and another standing before her with an air of calm that nobody in his line of work should logically possess. Maybe the revolver in his hand was a catalyst to his apparent overconfidence. Then again, it was fair ground, considering he and only one other had just forced the crew of a ship larger than theirs into submission; such an occurrence was bound to inflate one's ego. She thought to herself, in all honesty, that lying was an assured way of cementing her journey to the heavens. After all, compliance bred compassion.

However, that was only if the company had a heart, so to speak.

"They'll go after anything these days", she whined within earshot of the man beside her, reaching into a thin pocket next to her right thigh, "You must be well informed; I mean, what would pirates want with a tiny little thing like this? It's not drugs or anything like that…" The ending of her sentence gave clarity to the small plastic square she held up to the dazzling sun, its surface accurately landing a reflection on the black man's sunglasses. To show that he remained completely unperturbed, the man's non-gun-wielding hand shot up to snatch the disc from her grasp.

"That's something you'd be better off not taking an interest in." His bland answer, she felt, was all she'd get from the man towering over her. However, such thoughts were quickly ejected from her mind as the thief of her temporary property, using only the side of his fist, shoved her with extreme force in the right shoulder.

Physics started doing its job as her centre of gravity was sharply knocked out of its neutral zone, causing the rest of her upper mass to follow. A small and high-pitched scream of shock accompanied her short fall onto her posterior, the palm of the hand she extended to support herself catching a tiny splinter in the iron floor. The pain, however, was immediately forgotten once she heard a very distinct clacking sound.

She always believed that movies exaggerated the sounds that weapons made, how the cocking of a handgun was so blatantly amplified as to border on cheesy and humorous. This time, however, having heard that sound so many times through her TV, she finally understood that they were, in fact, being true to form.

Her eyes, her whole body, even her breathing froze…all because she found herself staring at a pair of barrels yet again. But this time, neither man was pulling a silly face.

"Alright, Aunt Sam; you'd better listen up, because I'm only going to ask this once." The black man loomed over her like a stone goliath, both he and his partner with weapons primed. "The package you got from the GenCorp headquarters in New York, the one you're in charge of until you hand it over to the chief in Manila, this is it, correct?" The man held up the small object once again to punctuate the query.

As much as she immediately wanted to say, 'yes', she couldn't help but be taken aback by the accuracy of the man's information. This was meant to be a secure, in-company courier, not some openly publicised transportation like the handing over of crop reports for stock markets. Her confusion, though, was dwarfed by the constant state of adrenaline-induced alertness.

"Y…yeah", she replied with caution, minutely shifting to find some comfort on the hard deck, "But I'd like to know-"

"That's enough from you; we've got what we came for."

Good, so at least they had no other motives than to steal the disc. Despite the way this would be held against her as an employee, she certainly found it to be a better ending than never returning home again...

"Dutch, this is getting boring already. Let me put one in her foot so we can skip all the secrets." The hand of fear had once again grasped the woman, this man was talking so casually about putting a bullet in her! He may have been talking about a non-lethal area, but she had already given them what they wanted, wasn't that enough for them? The black man, whom she could now identify as 'Dutch', in case she would ever need to give descriptions to the authorities, had said that their job was done.

Did this man have no sense of honour?

"That's not necessary, the disc is enough." Although it felt strange to admit to herself, she actually felt a small ounce of gratitude that 'Dutch' was in a compassionate mood.

"Baka gaijin", the wiry Japanese quietly blasted under his breath while still aiming his firearm at the grounded woman. "This job's getting us shit, Dutch. We need more."

"That's not how I see it, you just need to-"

Before the argument could continue, 'Dutch' cut himself off by lifting his free hand up to the side of his ear, where she noticed a thin, plastic headset. She figured that it must have been for some form of radio communication. Fortunately, the taller of the two men recalled his weapon and turned his back to the other crew members in silence; she noticed how the poor men across from her started nervously shivering as the pirate loomed over them once again.

The Japanese suddenly released a plosive sigh as if in despondence. Based on the identical earpiece extending by his cheek, it was natural to assume that he was also listening to a third party. Back in the distance, 'Dutch' began speaking to the open air in front of him, but the sea breeze against her ears was enough to block out any recognisable words.

The moment the man's distant hum had died away their boat, which had sat moored to the cargo vessel's starboard, began a quick tune of igniting stutters before its engines growled with sudden eagerness.

"Now listen up, gentlemen!" 'Dutch' raised his voice into an authoritative tone. "We're going to disappear, and then you'll all be free to go."

A sigh of relief escape her lips as she heard those words, at least now she knew her survival was effectively assured.

"See that ship of ours? It's got a nice payload of torpedoes that we've been aching to test out. Should you or anybody else come following us, we won't hesitate in sending you straight to the bottom. If you still want your ride home intact, then I suggest you act like statues for the next half-hour. After that, we don't care what you do."

She suddenly felt like the entire world had been lifted off her aching shoulders as she found her feet, having assumed herself to finally be in the clear. With arms still raised in submission, she murmured to herself as she slowly attempted to pace towards the seated crew.

"Thank God…" As grateful as she was to the big man in the sky, she suddenly felt a strange urge to say the same to their guests. After all, they had just opted to let them go despite the clear and viable option that they could just make use of their weapons. However, to thank such monstrous people…the thought practically sickened her. Her heels had only clacked twice against the deck before she found a familiar silver pistol slide appear under her chin.

"I don't think so, pretty." Confusion racked her, and a sudden ripple of fear barrelled through her chest. Her eyes briefly scanned the clear blue horizon before sweeping across to meet the black holes of the Japanese man.

_'What?'_ She nervously thought.

"You're going to ride with us." All she saw was the most sinister and wicked grin to ever exist on a human face, pirate status notwithstanding.

Out of nowhere, there was a sudden and all-encompassing flash, and the image before her, grin and all, started twisting and distorting like a finger being run through an oil painting. The sky appeared to melt, and the surfaces below her looked as if they were evaporating inside a fluid. The caw of the seagulls above fluctuated in a nauseating wave between high and low pitches. Her mind started to feel light, and she suddenly felt her stomach fold in on itself as the mass of twisting objects around her spiralled into one singularity.

Then everything went black.

* * *

She hardly had time to regard the darkness before it was overpowered by a flash of pure white. It only lasted for a fraction of a second, and she suddenly felt in control of her own weight as her eyes became realigned to take in a new scene.

She was sat on yet another cold floor, but the room she occupied was much more cramped, barely ten feet wide and maybe twelve in length, and the air smelt like smoke and rusted metal. Despite the especially ethereal event she had just felt occur, she somehow retained the memories of how she was pushed aboard the new vehicle in the first place. She could remember the feel of the rapid churning of the tide beneath the faster vessel as she watched her original 'sea taxi', the Melanesia, shrink into a small bar on the horizon, all while a pistol barrel was pressed in between her shoulder blades. It felt weird, she hadn't actually witnessed the small time window of her transfer, but she had retained the memories.

"Rock, just what in the hell are you planning to do with this hostage now that you've brought her with us? Are you out of your goddamn mind?" The suddenness of the vast, blaring baritone she recognised from earlier made her jump. She let her eyes follow her ears and saw the back of a thick green vest facing her, the body belonging to it making rapid arm movements both in her direction and to its front. Her gaze fell, but she could see the frayed edges of some denim pants through a window between the larger man's legs. There was a slight pause, but it did nothing to relieve the tension in the air.

"I told you earlier, Dutch. We're getting paid in change for this job! Twenty grand? That won't last us a fucking week! What's wrong with using her for a ransom?" She knew that voice. It had that strange rolling of the tongue as its owner tried to pronounce 'l's and 'r's, a good indication of a native Japanese speaker. So…'Japanese' finally had a name.

'Rock'…not a very oriental name, if she would say so herself. Having some eastern blood in her ancestry, she had come to appreciate the wider aspects of cultures, rather than remain exclusively to the western 'happy-go-lucky' attitude. She actually had her parents to blame for it; they never wanted her nor her elder sister to forget where their family name came from.

"So, you want a ransom? You got her company's phone number? Somewhere to transfer the money? How about an exchange point?" As the black man, 'Dutch', mockingly questioned 'Rock's plan of action, she could hear an impatient growl grow from a point that sat obstructed from her view by 'Dutch's body.

"Fine then, asshole! We'll just sell her once we get back! Rowan's looking for more whores to pimp out, give her to him!" Her eyes shot open at the soul-destroying proposition. She felt so stupid to have overlooked the fact that they'd have a settlement with a port to call home; surely they couldn't live on the open sea forever with such a small boat. But what he was suggesting? She considered that a fate worse than death; to be used as a toy by filthy and likely disease-ridden men; her pride, her dignity…her very soul, destroyed by a man's greed.

"Or how about we just put one in her fucking skull and get it over with!" A wooden box that had previously acted as a rest for 'Rock's booted feet was swiftly flying across the room with an accompanying clatter, that action alone already had her pulling back in a flinch after hearing his second 'idea'. The smaller of the two men was already on his feet and facing towards her, and with a speed she could barely comprehend, one of his two pistols was in his hand and staring down upon her once again.

That was it. She was sure that would be the end of it. She didn't look at his face, her fear forcing her to look at the finger that would end her. It was too much for her, she didn't even have time to think about screaming. The appendage curled back, and she heard that final click…

At least, as the one good thing she could glean from it, it was going to be quick, and she wouldn't feel a thing…

There was an echoed crack of a gunshot, then a hard thud of flesh on flesh, and finally a grunt of pain.

She could still feel the body of her muscles as they quivered, the adrenaline eagerly trying to force her into moving, all while her mind refused to obey. She still smelled that ever-present odour of smoke, but it was a lot more potent; the reason why was revealed to her as she looked across and finally opened her eyes, still grateful that they would continue to see, that they let her know she was still _alive_. Only a few inches next to her left ear was a shallow hole, maybe only an inch deep and half as much in width, scorched and blackened from the friction of a bullet impact, the residual heat causing small wisps of steam to rise from the splintered peaks of its entry point.

"Guh…"

She heard a guttural and choked tone bounce off the walls nearby, but her mind was completely blank. Mere seconds ago, she had come so close to death that she could smell the leftovers of the bullet impact beside her; it was as if, in technological terms, her mind had performed a memory dump and was trying to reboot from the sudden overload of firing synapses, shock, and all-encompassing fear.

"Alright, Dutch…I get it…" 'Rock's tone had become ragged and wheezy, but remained impatient nonetheless.

"You get what?" Once again, the deep voice of the burly American caught her attention, and her eyes moved across to see the man's thick forearm pressed tightly against 'Rock's throat, whilst the smaller man himself was sandwiched against the wall. 'Dutch' had also taken the weapon into account by pinning the hand using it above the Japanese man's head. 'Rock's free hand was grasping at the arm over his neck, his arm muscles quivering with tension as he tried to release the pressure on his windpipe.

"I get your point, alright?" He managed to say between clenched teeth. "But if I'm the one who brought her here, why shouldn't I finish her?" 'Rock's head was tilted further back against the wall as 'Dutch's arm pressed deeper into his neck.

"Innocent civilians, _unarmed_ civilians, are off limits as long as you're on my boat. _Understand_?" 'Dutch's statement left no room for negotiation and only enough space for one answer.

"Yeah…" 'Rock' grunted again, eager to halt himself from choking. "I got it."

With that, 'Dutch' recalled his pinning arm, but forced 'Rock's other hand, the one holding his weapon, back in the direction of its holster. She watched the scene with interest, albeit an extremely frightened interest, but was staunchly afraid of doing something to direct their attention back at her. It would have appeared, though, that her mind and emotions were on different terms.

He…he had just tried to shoot her! She was literally _inches_ away from losing her life!

She had originally been frozen in the moment, but now that her body clock had started to sync up once again, the originally-suppressed emotions had returned in a flash…and with twice as much force.

First there was the burning at the back of her throat, the dryness corrupting her tongue and the tightness around her ribcage, so she tried to swallow, whilst at the same time desperately gasping for the thick and musty air around her. Then pins and needles shot along her spine, and adrenaline coursed through her muscles; this made her fidget, almost madly twitch even as she pushed herself back against the wall. Soon after was the deafening echo of her own heartbeat flooding her ears, she could almost hear her own blood cells trying to force their way out of her skin in sheer fright. Then there was the stinging in her eyes, determined batches of salty tears that broke along her lower eyelids. She desperately shut them away, bringing a quivering hand up to cover them, but then her throat began to burn again, and a sharp mix between a cough and a sob pushed through her lips. God, why wouldn't it stop?

Only then did both men turn their attentions from a silent stare down of dominant competition to her breakdown. A loud sigh left 'Dutch's chest at the sight, but although partially curled up and trying to hide within herself, she didn't look as affected as many other people he had seen before. He turned and began pacing over to her, knowing full well his companion wouldn't try anything further. She could somehow hear his approach over her own flowing blood, and despite the confidence of his pace, he had somehow made himself sound lighter…more delicate and calm. She didn't need to look, she could sense his bulkier form lowering itself to her level.

"Come on now." His voice was lower, deeper...yet a lot easier for her to accept; but it still carried a certain power that made it sound like it was impossible for this man to ever be able to whisper. "Let's get you some fresh air."

In not as long a time as she had expected, she was sat on the open top deck of the nimble vessel that had whisked her away from safety and security, her skirted legs stuck out straight ahead of her in the perfect image of how a woman in her sense of dress shouldn't be placed. Somehow, she had managed to pull herself onto her own two feet without any help, and yet she still felt so weak. The moment the combination of cool sea breeze and high sun had hit her face, she suddenly felt a sense of peace envelope her; hell, the man escorting her had even offered her a cigarette, something her body had been building an immense craving for over the last action-packed hour.

The complete visual and audible tranquillity of the outside world suddenly seemed alien to her. She'd been shoved about, threatened, shot at...so why was this peaceful scene before her trying to barge into it?

Then again, considering her current situation, it wasn't like she didn't appreciate the change in pace. But the moment she felt that warm tingle of tobacco-laced smoke flow into her lungs like warm syrup, a pressure like nothing she had ever before felt had departed its perch on her shoulders for places unknown…though the deepest and darkest reaches of the sea around her would have sufficed.

"We'll look at getting in contact with your company to arrange a switch at some point." Dutch's voice permeated the air.

_'What, no apology?'_ She thought with a building internal anger. Despite this, her exterior was a portrait of relaxation: she was leant back against the windshield of the boat's cabin, legs crossed and pointing straight ahead of her and her arms limp either side of her. While unladylike, she could very easily be excused, considering her company.

"So…you _are_ going for the ransom. That's going on my record." While the thought had continued to cross her mind, she knew that there were more pressing issues at hand, issues such as the fact she was on a pirate ship exchanging pleasantries with one of the crew.

"That takes a back seat for the moment," Dutch continued, "we have our own job to do, too, and getting that disc to our client is the main priority right now." She had looked across at him as he spoke, and she saw how his throat hitched at his information slip.

"A client, huh? You're just hired guns?" Even as she spoke, her lips were expertly curling in a way that kept the filter of her cigarette firmly in her mouth. Dutch made no physical reaction to her perception; his gaze still appeared focussed on the horizon.

"More like delivery boys who prefer to protect themselves." He replied, "Every man needs his daily bread, we just tend to break some rules in order to get it."

Every time he seemed to open his mouth, this man continued to surprise her more and more. He was far from trigger happy, but he knew his duty and was far from hesitant in carrying it out; he was willing to lend an ear and show hospitality to someone that she knew he had no care for. And, above all else, he had protected her from Rock.

Perhaps even the roughs of the criminal underworld had their own unique diamonds…

With that, she suddenly felt like she could let her whole world out to this man, knowing that while he'd listen, he probably wouldn't care once she'd gone. She had here a temporary confidant and protector. Dare she think it, she may have been starting to see the makings of a friend in this man.

_'Stockholm Syndrome is a bitch.'_

"What's your name, by the way? Can't be calling you 'Aunt Sam' all the time." She certainly wasn't expecting that. Then again, her fate was in their hands, and she would likely be hanging around them for a while until they could arrange for her return. She turned her gaze away from Dutch and locked eyes with the horizon, the sea below it a darkening purple, and the sky above a mix of ochre and orange.

"Rebecca. Just call me Rebecca."

* * *

It happened again…

As soon as she had properly introduced herself, the scene around her had melted, contorted and vanished much like what happened back on the cargo ship. The next thing she knew, she was sat at a bar with an alcoholically-cheered up Japanese man two seats away to her right and a quiet and scraggily-looking American on her left. Again, just like last time, she had somehow retained memories of the events in between.

_'You coming, Revy?'_ Dutch's voice ghosted in her ears as she cupped a glass of Bacardi. The words were there, and she could see the memory…but why didn't it feel like it was her that was there? It didn't feel like a memory she should own, and yet she still felt like it had happened…

_'What? 'Revy'?'_ Her response and new name echoed in her skull, and she had to admit that it had a nice roll off one's tongue. 'Becky' was too common, and it had a nasty sharpness given off during the plosives. 'Revy', on the other hand, just seemed to flow better.

The air around her was musty with the stench of sweat, smoke of both the tobacco and gunpowder variety and…urine? Oh, good God, this truly was the bar at the end of the world. Various nasty pulses surged across her back as if her body knew of the leers and greedy stares directed at her by many of the male patrons; she almost believed she had already caught an STD from one of them. She shivered briefly in her seat, sinking her head a little lower in a failed attempt to make herself more scarce.

"What's wrong with _you_, secretary?" She looked across to find that Rock had turned in his seat towards her, his booted feet propped up on the seat between them.

This…he…that…bastard!

He was the reason she was there in the first place, how dare he try and nonchalantly socialise! He was wearing that smug little grin again, but unlike last time, his eyes seemed more relaxed. She had already witnessed his short fuse, but his slack posture and facial expression told her his zone of tolerance was slightly larger than before.

"Do you want a _list_?" She hissed back at him with narrowed eyes. Unlike the reaction she had hoped to incite, which would be something like an open-handed silent apology, his smile simply widened. He was getting to her, and he was enjoying it.

"Put it in a memo or on a sticky note. You're good at that sort of thing, right?" He derogatorily replied before necking the contents of a glass identical to her own, he used the back of the same hand to wipe his lips before reaching for a nearby bottle. "We came here to drink, not mope like sissies who got given tiny cookies on White Day."

She knew of White Day, it was an Asian tradition that took place on March 14th. On the normal Valentine's Day, February 14th, a woman would present a gift to their beloved as a token of their affection. A month later, on White Day, the man is expected to reciprocate with a gift of greater value (potentially three times as much monetarily) to the woman. The day was so called because of the conventional gift of white chocolates. A gift of equal value, however, would indicate a wish to split up, while a gift of lesser value would hint that the man thought of themselves as superior.

"Come on, I thought Americans and alcohol were best friends", he said as he reached over and topped up her glass without permission.

"That's the Irish, Rock", the fellow American beside her dully spouted. In fact, he hadn't really said much during the course of their acquaintance. She had only caught his name once during the past two scenes. Dutch had addressed him from the hold by the name 'Benny'. Benny was a rather lithe man, appearing to be in his mid-to-late twenties, much like Rock, and spouted a stoner-like combination of thick stubble, long messy blond hair and a red Hawaiian shirt.

"Over a tenth of you are _descendants_ of the fucking Irish, Benny. I'm surprised there aren't hops somewhere under your skin." Rock didn't even hesitate in his response. "Then again, I heard Yankee women get pretty crazy after a drink or two."

Her eyebrow twitched.

"I'm wondering about how many shots it would take before she's coming on to me and making an idiot of herself. What do you think, Benny? Take a guess. Two? Three, at most?"

_'Sexist, arrogant jerk'_, she thought, feeling the urge to lash back at him, though intelligent enough to remember which one of them had the guns.

"No bet." Benny calmly replied, turning his attention to a door off to the left of the bar; it was the only other door on the ground floor aside from the entrance, meaning that it would likely become a bottleneck should a fire break out. Dutch was idly leaning against the frame of the door, the headset of a wall phone nestled between his ear and shoulder.

"Pussy." She heard Rock mumble beside her. "What about you? Going to show your mettle, sweet cheeks?"

He was getting loads of kicks out of this wasn't he? He was just feeding off her fear, despair and fragility in such an unknown and desolate place like a fat man in a Maccie Dees.

She didn't give him the pleasure of her icy glare, instead directing it at the bottles of spirit sat on the bar shelves across from her. Jeers, chinking glasses and harsh verbal exchanges once again turned into the only sound around them, a mass plethora of organised chaos and vulgarity that made even the filthiest Manhattan night clubs look like a five-star restaurant.

"Not up for it, huh? What, want a glass of milk instead, girly? Hey, Bao!" Now that was far enough, the moment he looked away from her and to the bartender further down the counter, her anger-driven confidence succeeded in pulling the glass up to her mouth. The fluid was cool on her dried tongue, but the sting of the alcohol as it passed her gullet forced a wince to show in her eyes. But she wasn't the kind of woman who was all pencil pusher and no diva; she'd done most of her drinking days through her college and early work years, it wasn't like the stuff had never touched her tastebuds.

It's usually the tepid ones that were wildest in their youth…

"Get over here and give the lady here some…" His voice trailed off and died when he took in the sight awaiting him as he turned to face her again. She only noticed once she deemed her glass to be as close to empty as social tendencies allowed; she'd rather not consume every drop of it, as the stinging at the back of her throat had spread to the roof of her mouth. A tiny lurch in her stomach followed when she finally emerged for air, evidence that her body was in need of accustoming itself once more to sudden volumes of alcohol.

Again, silence amongst her and her captors ensued, even the sound of the glass hitting the counter drowned out the patrons behind them. She turned back to Rock, trying with overzealous desperation to clean the residue of the poison from the surface of her teeth with her tongue. Seconds passed as they sized each other up.

"There. Now piss off."

Fuelled by the sudden confidence from the drink and the look on his face, the words had just spewed from her voice box, her frustrations against his taunts finally manifesting in something he could fully comprehend.

Not to mention she wanted to make him angry as well, just for the sake of it.

"Ha! Kitty's got claws!"

But it was not to be; he just laughed instead. And then the small tingle of hindsight in the back of her head uprooted itself, that sharp feeling of, _'I shouldn't have done that.'_

"How about this, then? Bao! Bring more of that shit up here!" Rock waved a hand down the counter at the bartender, whose tanned and moustached visage shot back a distasteful frown.

"I'm not your fucking chambermaid, Rock, wait in line like a good girl." The bartender, Bao, swiftly returned to the patron in front of him.

"You're a bartender! I'm your customer, so that makes you my bitch while I'm here!" Rock hid a laugh behind his mockery, but was soon leaning to one side to avoid a tumbler thrown at his cranium. Rebecca…'Revy'…watched with trepidation, nothing about this city was going to be normal, was it? The chaotic chatter around the bar had lowered to a controlled level, attuning her ears to the sound of engines outside the entrance, but she turned back to the bar to quickly contemplate her situation once more.

While Rock started to trade semi-hostile banter with the bartender, she turned back to the endless sea of lacquered wood under her fingers.

"I wouldn't worry so much. Before you know it you'll be out of our hair and back to civilised life." She turned to face Benny, who had finally seen fit to enter a conversation once more.

"Out of _your_ hair? I'm the one in trouble here." She replied in disbelief, but Benny only shrugged in response.

"Yeah, but thanks to Rock, we're the ones who have to take care of you until this whole thing's sorted out. You may be the hostage, but that also makes you the burden."

A pregnant pause befell the conversing pair before Benny scoffed.

"Shit, I sound like a grumpy old guy. For the record, I don't always have this stick up my ass." He chuckled to lighten the atmosphere, which was semi-successful as a lopsided smile appeared on her face.

"What's the story with you guys? You're not distanced like Michelin Man…" She pointed across Benny toward Dutch's broad back, "…and not a screw loose from being sectioned like Yakuza here…" Her thumb pointed over her shoulder and back at Rock, who was still arguing with Bao, "…you seem…almost normal."

"Hm", Benny huffed, "I doubt that a 'normal' guy would hack into an FBI suspect database and reveal the masterminds of a Mafia drug ring. And I'm pretty sure a 'normal' guy doesn't have both the law and underworld chasing him at the same time."

"But I know a normal guy sits and talks about 'back in the day' crap like you are now." Revy frowned as 'Yakuza' broke up the party. "Benny, stop flirting with the little lady, you're shit at it."

She turned back on her chair on looked back to the smug grin of her fellow Asian, and found herself imagining that some teeth had been knocked out of it.

"And you're an expert on it, huh? What's your technique? Smash the woman over the head with your club and drag her back to your cave?"

"Er…" She heard Benny's restrained voice behind her, and its meaning unravelled as Rock's face shifted in a flash. Once wide and uncaring eyes narrowed into a cool and calculating gaze, and the open grin had flattened into a long interrupted line. His left hand, which had sat idly on his leg up until then, ascended up his body, her eyes cautiously following, to allow a finger to tap against the grip of one of his holstered pistols. That earlier shiver of regret shot through her chest once more.

"You forget you're in _my_ pond now, little fishy. You'd do well to remember your place."

She remained silent, but met his eyes as his subtle threat filled her ears. All the life that she had seen in his face as he joked was gone, like a switch in his brain had been flicked. His stare relented, exerting an intangible pressure that she could feel was toying with her muscles; even without wishing it, her neck kicked in to action and moved her head away as if to protest against her attempts to sit and defy him. Even as she looked down at the counter in an attempt to ignore him further, his stare continued to burn into her cheek like a concentrated burst of radiation.

***chink chink***

Grateful for the distracting sound, she turned to look back at the front door of the establishment and found the peculiar sight of multiple dark, rotund objects energetically bounding across the floor with metallic impacts. Precisely one second later, when the information from their eyes reached and had been processed by their collective brain, the patrons sat around nearby tables gasped, yelled, leapt from their chairs or performed an amalgamation of said actions. Not attuned to her surroundings, she was slower off the mark, but the two hands that had suddenly clamped around her waist and Benny's words next to her were enough to let her know the situation was about the turn unpleasant.

"Oh, fuck."

For a brief moment, her head spun as the floor flipped over her and appeared to become the ceiling as her body floated across the surface of the counter. She was embroiled in her apparent weightlessness, but then the chaos reigned.

Her brain was pummelled as her ear drums were squashed by the percussive force of air that suddenly surged through the building, and the accompanying noise seared through them like thousands of microscopic needles. A flash of light shone through her closed eyelids, and a wave of superheated air licked at her skin like molten water before she felt gravity pull her down behind the counter. All she felt after that was pain; the shock of landing forced a burning wave through her arms, legs and hips, leaving them slack and no longer able to take weight. Her limbs began to tingle from the rush, adrenaline coursing through her veins and demanding more air from her lungs.

The residual ringing in her ears continued, leaving her to rely on her sight. She scanned the surroundings, noting how she was lying on her side, protected by a wall to her front and rear, with an opening to the side and above her. By her feet she saw Rock sat with his back against the bar…

…with a drink still in his hand. Despite his on-going refreshment, he had a distinct frown on his face.

"Someone's getting a fucking lead enema for ruining my night, I swear to God", she barely heard him mumble before the thunderous hammering of machine gun fire against the bar became the sole worry of those who were still alive.

"Rock! I'm gonna start charging rent if you keep using my bar as a hiding spot, you little fucking rat! D'you know these bastards?" Bao had taken cover from the carnage at the other end of the bar, a pump-action shotgun poised at his hip. Rock, meanwhile, just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at the the distressed barman's question.

"Where's Benny?" For the first time in what felt like hours, Dutch's baritone voice rang out through the continued destruction.

"He's here trying not to get his ass shot!" The blond American was sat in a similar manner to Rock, but his body nervously shifted under the lethal barrage.

Revy was frozen in disbelief. She was part of a gunfight, and she had a disturbing feeling that her existence and that of the disc were the reasons for their unwelcome guests. Fear paralyzed her, and she found absolutely no solace in the fact that the bar had been bullet-proofed; it didn't guarantee protection from a rogue ricochet did it? Another grenade detonated nearby, flinging debris across the night-darkened room and showering the hiding occupants with dust and wood chips.

"Rock! Get off your ass and do what I hired you to do!"

Rock, who up until then had sat with an uncharacteristic patience, downed the remnants of his drink and reached for a pistol with his remaining hand. Just as his thumb had retracted the hammer, the shooting had finally subsided to a flood of footfalls and the shouting of orders from outside. She could still hear the groaning of potential survivors on the other side of the bar; however, a gunshot soon signalled their permanent silence.

She looked over at Rock, watching how he gently juggled his empty glass in his hand, nodding his head as if to set some form of countdown. With a sharp intake of breath, he grabbed the glass and threw it to the far side of the bar, over the counter and into a wall where it easily disintegrated with a crash. She heard weapons being raised, and in a flash Rock was mounting the counter.

"Ikuzo!"

The moment he had bellowed his entrance, the walls echoed with gunfire once more. She didn't dare look, but even through the swathe that she assumed was waiting on the other side she could still hear the recognisable sound of Rock's pistols between interrupted machine gun volleys and pained cries of wounded men. Next to her, Benny had gained further composure and was just scratching his head as if bored, but then he looked at her fear-racked expression and could only flash an apologetic smile…even as men were being killed mere yards away from her.

"Go, Dutch!"

A harsh impact back at the interior of the bar had her jumping out of her skin. She turned to see Rock knelt beside her, sweat forming on his brow and blood-spray on his shirt and arms; he had no evident injuries, so she could only assume it to belong to his victims.

"Having fun?" He teasingly asked through heavy breaths, paying more attention to his weapons as they both spat spent magazines from their handles. Like a proper marksman, he had no trouble locating replacements and loading them within moments, engaging the slides ready for further use.

"You and your friends are paying for all this damage, Rock, you piece of shit! I swear to God if you get stingy I'll nail your head between your legs so you can watch me put my foot up your ass!" Bao stood up and unleashed a brief volley of shotgun shells before ducking down and berating Rock once more. Rock didn't bother looking over to the older man as he stood up and responded.

"Lighten up you fucking Viet Cong prune! You know you love this as much as I do!" Rock kept his banter up even as he continued to fire upon the as of yet unidentified assailants, spent casings actively dancing along the floor by Revy's feet in a twisted ballet. The fact he was so calm and light-hearted as he indiscriminately killed his fellow man unnerved her even more than the gunfight itself. It was then that she began to get the underlying feeling that it wasn't external dangers she should be wary of, it was more this man and his mentality that she needed to be careful of.

"Rock, move!"

At Dutch's call, Rock ducked back behind the bar, chest heaving amidst natural drugs and physical exertion.

"What about this?" He shouted back, nodding at Revy, to which her face transformed into a visage of confusion and slight fear. Dutch was emptying the chambers of his revolver in concentration, leaving a tense silence to hang over them even among the sustained gunfire. Even as the third, fourth and fifth fresh rounds were being loaded into the weapon, he said nothing. She knew he was contemplating, but such duration of thought tended to stem towards the negative in her experiences.

"Bring her with."

She had no time to feel any sort of elation as a harsh tightness surrounded her elbow, to which she looked down to find a gloved but significantly-bloodied hand. Her eyes traversed upward and into the black pits of the man who had the honour of being the first to have her at gunpoint. There was a millisecond window to take in the small shoulder shrug he accompanied with his lax gaze.

"Cover!" She heard Rock yell.

After that she only saw the floor as it blurred past her feet, an uninvited force bending her forward by her upper arm and launching her into a sudden sprint in the open air. She thought she heard a cry of angered protest fading away behind them, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Hammering impacts of gunshots rattled her ears and the musky scent of gunpowder and humid sweat flooded her nostrils; a section of wall near her head exploded from a bullet, spraying her matted hair in a shower of plaster and paint specks.

A quick sideways glance was her crash course in the workings of the underworld. Tiny firecracker flashes of gunfire dotted through the grey smoke above a scene of carnage, contorted and maimed figures strewn across the floor warned her of a possible fate; red rivers of exposed life force danced across the floor past casings and broken glass in a disgusting delta of gore.

She had never seen death before, but now, within only minutes, she had witnessed its results ten times over amongst the corpses of men and women alike, some of whom she had seen alive and well before the calamity began. Such a distressing sight was too traumatic for her brain to take, and it took action to ensure her eyes remained closed while entrusting her thinly-veiled safety to the man forcing her along.

The light around her darkened as the purchase on her arm spun her into another wall, and she was finally graced with the freedom to look around and take in her new surroundings. She was in a corridor behind the bar across from which was a shallow staircase and poorly-maintained fire door, but the restraint on her arm halted her from doing anything that would allow her to relax.

"I hate you, Dutch", Rock shouted over the distant clatter of automatic fire, "She's the reason they're here, isn't she? Fuck!" His outburst extended through his arm, which consequently shook her body. "All I wanted was to maybe get pissed and pick up some tail that I could forget about the next day, but no! Charitable Dark Chocolate Gorilla gets humane in the middle of a fucking warzone! Either that or you're thinking with the thing that I'm soon goin' to roast and feed to the fucking fishes!"

Rock had finally let go of her arm, allowing her the possible chance to make her own escape, but she became astutely aware of her own reliance on these people. Rock had moved up to the doorframe across from Dutch, and both took turns to display their own show of force.

"I'm thinking you can shut your trap until we get the hell out of here, Rock!" Dutch exclaimed after ducking back into cover moments before the doorframe near his head became dust, "Killing her would be the second thing they'd do to her if we left her here, and I won't wish that on a woman if I can help it! She comes with, and you'll do what I say!"

"And I'm thinking that we might want to get the hell out of here!" Benny cried from Dutch's other side, arms raised in a half-assed form of self-defence. "The car's just out back."

"Rock." Dutch nodded at the door as an order to the Asian gunman, "Benny, go with him."

She had to stay her feet as she watched the two men leave their hold-point and rush to the fire door. It was good timing, too, as said door was kicked open with a forced that rocked it on the hinges, and in charged a uniform-clad soldier brandishing an automatic rifle. Eyes blanketed by the shadow of a cap locked in on the first piece of meat they could find: her. The rifle muzzle swung to face her unarmed being, but the goon guiding it was too embroiled in the upcoming kill to notice the attentive Japanese man approaching from his flank.

The sole of Rock's heavy boot met the body of the weapon, the force of his kick knocking both it and the man backwards and against the open door. Any hope of putting up a fight was lost as Rock's forearm dug just under his chin, pinning his head upward. Her eyes tracked Rock's free hand as the barrel of his second pistol jammed into the man's ribcage, pointing upwards toward the major organs, and shook the room with three quick taps of the trigger.

No exclamation escaped her lips, nor did any further flinching action flash through her shoulders, she just stood as a prisoner to her reluctant muscles while she played audience to the once-living human being slumping lifelessly onto its side before her feet, intimidating black and red gashes staining the dark green fabric of the uniform.

"Check your corners, third-rate bag of shit."

Rock's posthumous insult simply bounced off her, she just stared bewitched by the sight of something that suddenly shared similar status to that of a pig carcass in an abattoir. There was no middle ground; one second the man existed, the next he did not.

Then in that moment, she was made greatly aware of everything she had taken for granted in the face of death. Never had she seen it, never had she experienced it; the ten o'clock news was always providing her with a protective blanket of superficial sympathy with which she could ignore the sheer animosity and traumatic violence that was a murder. But in a split second, that condescending concept was brutally shattered and usurped by the real hampering truth that someone somewhere had to witness the event in the flesh. She was now that person; and from then on the news would not stop her from taking the perspective of someone who had seen it.

This was her first kill, so to speak.

Much like an apparent exaggeration seen with theatrical effects, the torso actively leaked a dark red that spooled along the dirtied floor as it tried to escape from its body's punctured ventricles and arteries. The tide of blood slowed before it could touch the grounded and unused firearm beside the body, which she finally noticed had been grasped by a large ebony hand.

"Come on!"

Even Dutch's insistent order and grip around her arm didn't faze her, she was only running on basic animal instinct from that moment. Flight…nothing but flight…

Her skin, red hot from her hyperactive blood flow was finally doused by the humid night air as her puppeteer dragged her into the open. The fresh air around the alley wasn't enough to drown out the continued stench of gunpowder, and the rustle of nearby bushes was powerless against the thunder cracks of gunfire. Ten feet from the door sat a red muscle car pulled straight from a cheesy TV cop show, the door closest to them open with the passenger's seat folded forward and the engine churning out an impatient growl as it fought against the handbrake.

"In!"

She didn't need to be told twice as she unceremoniously dove head first into the back seat. Her head became nestled under her hands, trying to give herself some kind of protective veil that she knew would never come. More gunshots blasted both near and far before she felt movement in the seat beside her, and soon her back was flung into the seat as the car surged forward like a greyhound at the races.

As the weapon fire steadily echoed away, she afforded herself a glance of Rock leaning out the window and throwing something back at their exit, a sickening grin plastered along his face. Soon enough, the car was jolted by the shockwaves of a distant explosion, but Rock simply fell back into his seat and loudly exhaled in respite.

"How fucked are we?" Rock asked.

"It's not looking good; they were Extra Order dogs. I'd love to say that getting out to sea will lose them, but they're tenacious sons a' bitches." Dutch's head movements gave away his occasional glance at the rear view mirror, but otherwise he did nothing else as he responded.

The next minute was spent in contemplative silence. Dutch's mental cogs were turning in an attempt to formulate a proper immediate plan, Benny was anxiously eyeing the mirrors for any followers when he wasn't focussing on driving the car. Rock had taken to inspecting one of his pistols, jabbing at the inside of the action with a dirtied finger.

"By the way", Rock diverted, "Bao wants us to pay for the shit he lost, I swear he was about to go Platoon on my ass."

"Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't have used his bar as a cover point."

"Unless you wanted me to park it under a table, then there was nowhere else to go. He put military-grade armour behind the woodwork of that counter, man, I was just helping him test it. And it worked, didn't it, little damsel?"

His question rapidly changed direction toward her, but she was too wound up in the aftermath of high adrenaline, high trauma and high stress to even pay attention to her surroundings. All she noticed was what passed directly across her eyeline: the neon club lights, drunk and cheerful passers-by, the cloudless and star-addled sky.

They were lies. Complete fabrications of a world whose supposed truth she had just seen in the worst possible manner. This city was surely a lie; it could not have been real, not by the grace of any true, compassionate god.

_'It's all a dream…it's all a dream…'_ was what filled her psyche and inadvertently flowed out her throat.

"It's a dream…has to be…" the breath of her murmur condensed against the cold glass of the car window, but not even her mumbled tone escaped her company.

"Please, even if this was a dream, you won't be waking up from it for a long time." Rock's tone was hard and determined, and like a red-hot iron it branded the warning into her brain.

She was sure he was lying. It couldn't possibly get worse than what she had already seen…

…

…could it?

* * *

**A/N: Right, first of all I hope you enjoyed this. It's been long overdue, and I honestly believe that this chapter...hasn't done the wait justice. Bear with me, for I will explain what's going to happen. But first things first...**

***Adopts dogeza position***

**I AM SO SORRY! It should not have taken over two years to get the next chapter of this out, and it's very unfair of me to have constantly talked about the update when it was nowhere near done! Firstly, soon after I posted chapter 8 (when I was still in college), I managed to get pulled into Narutardom by friends and my own curiosity, and I had all these ideas that I thought would make decent fics...**

**Secondly, just as I was getting on with the Naruto fics, I was at university; and believe me, it is a MASSIVE time-drainer. Based on my ordering system, what little free time I had at uni went to the Naruto fics and 'Diary' was on the back burner.**

**Thirdly, and it kills me to say this, I had lost motivation in writing 'Diary' for a while. I don't know, I think it was because I was consumed by my most fatal writing flaw: I get so many ideas for a plot, and key out certain events...but it's writing what happens between these events that kills my drive, I basically suck at linking plot nodes together. I'm actually in the same position with one of my Naruto fics; I know where I want it to be, but getting it to that point hampers me.**

**So there's all the bad shit for you, but now I have good news.**

**As you may have noticed, the title for the chapter is 'Role Reversal (Part One)'. Now I bet at this moment you're thinking something along the lines of, "You bastard, Tomcat! We're going to have to wait five years for the next part!"**

**HAVE NO FEAR! It was my original desire to have the entire dream sequence play out in one chapter, but with my writing style being so clogged as it is (which I hope to change), I was reaching my per-chapter word quota rather fast. I _still_ wish to get the dream sequence out of the way before moving on to update a different fic.**

**So what I'm saying is...I am holding on the Naruto fics to get chapter 10 of 'Diary' out of the way first, since I plan for it to be a lot better than what you've seen in this chapter. So this time I can say with a lot of certainty that you will not be waiting a year for the next chapter.**

**That's all I've got for now. I can't thank those who have alerted enough for being so patient with me, I hope this chapter is at least of some consolation, because it's not the best thing I've ever written.**

**For those who are new to this fic, I hope you're enjoying it so far. If you're liking it so far, alert/follow it; if you're loving it, fave it; and if you have any praise or critique to give, I'd be happy to read it in a review!**

**Stay alert for Chapter 10, I'm making it the next thing on my list because you deserve a double dose after such a long wait!**


	10. Role Reversal - Part Two

**A/N: Hello there, fine readers! Here is the chapter as promised (actually a few hours ahead of schedule, I was planning to finish the chapter this morning and upload it once I got back from work later tonight. But since I have the time right now, I see no reason to hold it back any longer!).  
**

**Again, you've had to wait for quite a while for the continuation, my deepest apologies. My new job and other factors previously explained on my profile have kept me from completing this update sooner. Anyway, I'll explain everything at the author's note at the bottom. For the meantime, enjoy the wrap-up of the role reversal!**

**I haven't proof-read this chapter just yet, so my advanced apologies for any spelling or grammar issues that I didn't find during the writing process.**

* * *

**'The Diary of an Ex Businessman'**

**A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction**

**Chapter 10 – 'Role Reversal (Part Two)'**

"We're fucked."

'_Understatement of the Day' award goes to…'_

It should be noted that in the face of a worthy adversary, even a man's best laid plans can be burnt to ashes through a turn of [bad] luck, a momentary tactic of pure genius, a bit of both…or just the fact you're completely outgunned in every possible manner.

That was the situation aboard a gunmetal grey Elco-type PT boat sat idling in the presence of a calmly cascading waterfall. The river had led them this far before the water chose to travel vertically instead of horizontally, the ultimate [and most blatantly obvious] getaway killer for a boat. But it wasn't like they chose that route; their technologically superior opponents had teased them like the proverbial cat and mouse and bottlenecked their retreat through the delta. The only way out was the direction from which they had come but along that path, steadily hovering above the earth as if the air itself was solid, was a Mil Mi-24A attack helicopter.

As the Russian's answer to the riddle of an infantry-carrying aerial tank, something the Americans had not yet devised in the late 60s/early 70s, the Hind-A was a sleek and hulking monolith of aluminium, titanium and bulletproof glass, a behemoth whose shadow was the last thing to embrace its victims. At least the waterborne pirates had a legitimate reason to be worried.

"Now what gave you that idea? Was it the rocket pods, the missiles or the dead end that turned on that light bulb upstairs?" Through a haze of cigarette smoke she saw Dutch staring motionlessly at the world beaming in through the windshield while his sarcastic retort canned off the dented and scorched walls. She heard Rock scoff beside her.

"Are we playing the 'last word' game now? 'Cause I'm not going out before I get to call you an asshole."

Dutch's low chortle was lost against her clambering brain. Within the space of almost eight hours her situation had gone from shit, to shittier, to shittiest. Time had already started to sew into a seamless tapestry of despair and violence with no downtime, all she could remember was the gunfight at the bar and smelling death for the first time; and immediately after being told that she would be abandoned near what Dutch described as a 'not-so-scummy' port town as they made their escape out to sea.

She now knew to savour moments of peace and quiet like they were the last Ferrero Roche in the box, their new quarry had sprung up on them like a typical safari predator and given them new wounds to lick after hiding, but it wasn't like they'd ever heal once the ordeal would soon come to its denouement. Extra Order, according to Dutch, was a mercenary organisation filled with egotistical war junkies. They savoured the fight, the rush of combat, the kind of people who considered the thrill greater than sex, drugs - possibly rock 'n' roll - and alcohol combined. Unfortunately, the death of the four wayward souls inside the floating to-be sarcophagus was to become their next fix.

Rock had proposed waiting them out, but their hiding place provided no cover. The rock faces around the waterfall were sturdy granite and the surrounding forest, even for all its lusciousness, gave no sympathy by allowing the position an open view from the air. On top of that, it would have been no hassle for the flying obelisk to simply follow the river to their location and snuff them out if they felt the standoff had become too tedious.

But that's what confused her: the standoff. Why were they waiting? Unlike a boat, a helicopter was built with the purpose of defeating that small little thing called 'gravity'. The Lagoon was magnetised to the water's surface, while the Hind had all kinds of ease in simply changing the angle of the main rotor blades and hopping over obstacles such as buildings, trees in the jungle…and even that random grounded, overturned and rusty shipwreck to grab the kill.

So she wondered again: why sit idle when the fruit of the effort is ripe for picking?

Being of a business background, experience had given her an innate ability to sensually multitask. She could easily scribble coffee requests on a notepad in shorthand whilst mentally logging a list of errands set down by her boss as both were being nonchalantly thrown in her direction. Having such talent was a sure-fire advantage in all areas of life, and it was shining through as she stayed her tongue to sit back and take in the situation whilst listening to Dutch lament about the onboard Mark 13 torpedoes, how he naively believed that jettisoning them would somehow prove beneficial.

But there had been two small turns of phrase that had her attention. The torpedoes, should their Torpex warheads become ruptured by loose rounds, were sure to blow them to kingdom come, and the basic profile of the EO pilot that the bulky captain had provided was just another piece to add to the puzzle swimming through her synapses.

She had felt the speed of this boat first hand, it was capable of 35 knots and upwards, which was nippy to say the least. That was factor number one.

While an anti-materiel rifle, Remington 700 sniper rifle and a flare gun would be like throwing marshmallows at a tank, the boat possessed 4 torpedoes packing high-explosives. One was often enough to take out an _Oliver Hazard Perry _class frigate. Factor two.

She had watched from the cabin as the Hind shrank away in the distance following their initial escape, and she didn't miss the pilot's habit of low-level manoeuvring. Factor three.

And then add to that factor four: The overturned ship they had passed to get to their current location, whose sloped hull was prostrate, bare and at the behest of the elements.

Everything was just…right.

Dutch had voiced his observation of how they were blatantly being toyed with, and it made sense to her. The Hind had first fired upon them to startle them, and after that it had only used indirect fire to block their escape and force their hand; the boat could only go where the pilot would let them. Just as Dutch said, it was all a game to them.

So who was saying that they weren't allowed to play right back?

She had become acutely aware that something upstairs had snapped after the less pressing revelation of her possible death. Barely five minutes before the helicopter had come to ruin her day, her new entourage managed to get in touch with her boss. And for all her trauma and tribulations he was holding her out like a carrot on a stick. The disc she once carried had been compromised, and now she was to become collateral in her own company's attempts to destroy it. To put it lightly, it pissed her off, being considered such an expendable waste. She was naturally within her rights to be more than angry, this was her life he was trying to bury, after all.

It could have been borne of desperation, impending madness or just a ridiculous amount of self-confidence, but she knew she wasn't going to bite the bullet without first baring her teeth in rabid defiance.

"Dutch…"

That was the first time she had regarded him by his name, and it made his head turn toward her. For the first time since the entire ordeal began, Dutch felt nervous; that smirk on her face was not befitting a sane figure.

"Are you _fly_ for a game of chicken?"

* * *

She had to give herself credit for thinking of such a fucking insane plan, but she had to give Dutch even more credit for damn well going along with it. Benny was apprehensive, as was common with computer geeks, while Rock almost whooped in joy at the prospect like a kid being told they were going to Disneyland. The adrenaline coursing through her like electricity was playing havoc on her brain, and even as the Hind sat low in the air along the only alley of water they could travel down, staring straight at them over the shipwreck, her face was split with the most inappropriate smile.

Regrets? Pah! If this was her time, then she'd prefer to do it in as flamboyant a fashion as possible; and what better way than going head-to-head with a helicopter using a PT boat?

She ambled in a comforting weightlessness every time the hull bounded off the crests, and every hard impact as it fell back into the water felt like the boat taking another step in a long and fateful run up. She had already sampled her first experience of pulling a trigger by now, having fired a flare gun to distract the two IR-seeking missiles the Hind had sent to try and quickly finish the job. And now they were heading straight for the downed ship that sat withering on the riverbank, its rusty hull exposed and, thanks to Dutch's approach bearing, perfectly in line with their chicken counterpart.

The sun gleamed; the water shimmered and dazzled, the boat's engine roared in its rebellious charge, the helicopter hummed and dithered with renewed anticipation of the coming contact, twitching in readiness of the pilot's next control input.

But most importantly, the torpedoes were primed.

"I'd prefer to make it through this, but if not I just want it on the record that you picked up one hell of a haywire bitch, Rock." Dutch's voice carried over the muffled sounds of sea splash and engine revs, but the thought of what was about to come simply widened the grin on both her and Rock's faces.

"Just drive the fucking boat, I wanna watch the show!" Rock replied as he braced himself against the wall of the cabin in eagerness. Benny, meanwhile, had taken to hiding in the confinement of his 'tech area', hoping that the lesser the space there was to move around, the more cushioning he'd have from what was to come. But it was then that the same two words from the bar fell forth from his lips upon realising that none of his equipment was either tied secure or effectively nailed down.

"Oh, fuck."

But it was sure as hell too late to do anything about it; their point of safe return was all the way back-

…

Actually, the point of safe return never existed when they thought about it. If they had stayed in Roanapur, they'd be dead. If they kept moving, they'd probably be dead. Though right now, it was 50/50 on the advancement front; do or die, a precipice leaning over a bottomless pit lined with razor wire and spikes. They could jump and make it through, or they could jump and just get plain skewered, punctured and all other kinds of synonyms that reflected a painful demise.

Without any word of warning the vessel violently juddered as hull ground against hull, she protested in a screeching whine as momentum forced her up and out of the water, laying the whirring propellers naked to the air, the excess dripping from the blades acting like tears of temporary pain.

And then it all stopped.

Their ramp had transformed into nothingness, and gravity's reclaiming grasp was already preparing to bring her back down. The Hind had moved in for the close-quarter kill, only thirty-or-so metres of clearance between boat and helicopter as they floated face to face above the earth.

"One and two away!"

She heard Dutch shout something, but the boat had started to sink faster than her lighter body, and so she hovered in near zero-G captivated by the weightless cans and cigarette butts that danced in an improvised ballet across her jade eyes. But beyond her near sight, right through the windshield, was the goliath-like menace that was intent on their death. The silhouettes of the pilot and gunner were entrenched in a malicious darkness that allowed them to be seen even through the sun glare reflecting off the bullet-proof glass of the canopy.

But as quickly as she had caught it, the boat was finally ensnared and began to plummet. Even as the bow tipped to the blue river surface, giving them an idea of a time of impact, she used her purchase on one of the cabin handles to turn and stare with maniacal anticipation out of the open hatch above her. With all of the objects and people rattling inside, she knew she wasn't going to able to hear whether her plan was a success or not. Even so, her waiting paid off as their pursuer passed over…

…with a massive grey-bodied cylinder wedged right in the cockpit as it fell in a fatal descent.

As if in a rodeo, she screamed at the top her lungs with a grin on her face as her 'steed' rocked and jolted.

"Ha-ha! I fucked you, you son of a bitch!"

She caught the signs of the early birthing of a fireball, but the rapid deceleration of the boat finally kicked in as it landed back on terra firma. Her unharnessed body was caught by inertia and flung backwards toward the front of the cabin.

Once again, darkness reigned.

* * *

This was starting to disorientate her…

When her vision had faded out from black and into normalcy, a heavy wind was blasting right into her face, forcing her eyes to unwillingly weep. She wiped a hand across her face and scanned the surroundings to find herself still on the boat and observing from the crow's nest above the cabin, only instead of a river they were gliding along the open sea with two small land masses in their wake.

But they weren't the only ones.

With three to both port and starboard and one far aft, the larger PT boat was surrounded by a miniature armada of Vietnam war-era river boats. The imagery mimicked a pack of starving hyenas teasing a lone water buffalo.

"Rock…this one's all yours." A canny interpretation of Dutch's murmur bled into her ear through the radio headset sat there. His tone was almost devoid of emotion, a harsh drone expelled with dire earnest and a vehement order of non-negotiation.

'_So I guess as a child you and your friends had some spud guns in the playground and got in little arguments about who shot who first?' She had asked._

_His eyes hollowed._

"Rock…what are you-", she began to regard the man stood at the bow, armed with a long and tubular projectile weapon. A smaller weapon was lashed to his left hip; it was pistol-shaped but possessed a longer and bulkier barrel.

"Rev, you're a part of our world now. You can shut up, keep the channel clear, and just watch. Benny, which one's closest?" His voice was flat and unemotional, even though his back was to her she could imagine his gaze locked in a thousand-yard stare despite the heavy wind.

"Immediate left; nine o'clock."

"Then that's first." He was already walking to the port side.

The first green hyena listed to the right, the goons aboard brandishing their firearms much like 18th Century pirates would their swords and muskets as they readied a boarding party.

After all: To the victor the spoils.

Rock just stared down the approaching vessel, scanning it and those aboard in an assessment and comparison of power. In his eyes, the odds looked bad.

Bad for _them_.

No further thought went into his actions, the large weapon in his hand was levelled at the boat and the trigger was pulled. The large barrel spat a rotund shell that whistled through the smoke of its ignited gunpowder and laid all guidance to its master's aim. The free-travelling shell soon burst against the boat's starboard panelling, triggering a large explosion that shook the vehicle and forcibly ejected some of its passengers into the azure tides.

'_No one ever shoots before me.'_ _He flatly responded, a calculated gaze adorning his features as his eyes sought the horizon._

He spun on his toes and sprinted for the starboard side. She stood bedazzled as he leapt across the watery crevice splitting him from his target. Two men on the river boat marking his landing spot were dead before their attacker had gotten his feet on the deck.

'_Anyone who's tried doesn't exist anymore. There's no arguing in shooting first, you just do it. You learn things quicker when you're a starving ten-year-old taking lives just to get another bowl of rice.' The misanthropy in his tone had her leaning back in unease. She watched his face, wrapped in sceptical disbelief at his claims._

_But when he turned his head to her, glazed eyes boring straight into her retinas, she somehow knew. It was something that left a twinge deep inside her chest. No, deeper than that, it didn't even feel physical, maybe even ethereal, as if she knew about this ungodly truth in some other life…_

Even through the restricted sight of her binoculars, she watched as he ducked, weaved, punched, butted and downright annihilated the crew aboard the second of seven boats. The PM-63 RAK in his left hand expelled bright orange flashes with every pull of the trigger. High speed lead punctured flesh and spattered red into the air like a gore-oriented Pollock painting.

'_Have _you_ ever put a bullet in an old guy's skull just for a meal ticket?'_

The fools in their little green boats were dumb enough to stay close to one another. Rock had line of sight on all of them, and an apparent jumping distance on two. Something in her head latched on; but it wasn't just a hint of common logic, it was more a deep seated feeling of belonging. She didn't believe out of assumption, she _knew _it was a grenade launcher. An M79, commonly nicknamed a 'Thumper' amongst others, fired 40mm rounds of various types including high explosives and flechettes. It was a lethal anti-infantry weapon. And, given the ammunition type Rock was using, it was handling the aluminium adversaries with ease.

'_Of course not', she had replied._

It wasn't long before one boat remained and turned tail to retreat. The Lagoon had already picked up Rock from the final corpse-riddled vessel that writ the tale of his close-quarters prowess.

She had counted the time of the entire engagement on her dirtied watch. Three minutes and forty-two seconds. That was how long it took Rock to single-handedly take out six boats. It happened too fast for her to count every single individual, but if she were to average it based on the first boat, the kill count was looking to be about 36.

'_Then don't fucking joke.' His flat tone contrasted the way he seemed to snap at her. _

The final enemy vessel had attempted to turn tail in the face of its friends' annihilation. It was all for nought, however, as Rock launched a well-aimed shot as he stood at the stern with a look of indignant concentration. The boat in the distance at first appeared safe, but only seconds later it was erupting in a twisted fireworks display of sparks and beautifully blooming fireballs.

"Who's up for pulling some fingernails? I feel that a visit to Chin is on the cards." Dutch's question crackled over the hard breeze from the headset into her ear.

"I'm not one for constant violence, but they always say that revenge is sweet." At Benny's response, Rock was breaking the launcher and throwing the last spent grenade casing into the Lagoon's white-washing wake. He turned on his heel and headed back to the cabin, most likely for a beer. But as he trundled back in what she believed to be a disturbing ease, he had caught her bewildered gaze.

And then he winked at her.

As the boat levelled out from its swift bank to head back to Roanapur, the environment began to deform in a manner not dissimilar from a sci-fi hyperdrive sequence. The boat and everything else in front of her started to stretch towards a singularity on the horizon in a nauseating interpretation of spaghettification. The image of seagulls hovering nearby smeared over and transformed into plain white streaks that mimicked shooting stars, and the waving ocean beneath them smudged into a single matte block of two-dimensional colour in an optical illusion of astounding speed. The horizon grew bright and brighter, almost blinding her.

At last, a powerful burst of pure white light consumed her.

* * *

"Revy?"

She heard the voice, clear as day. Even so, the light continued to fill her sight, and she was forced to shield her eyes and squint. The flashlight was redirected to her stomach, but provided her retinas only a small amount of relief. Her readjusting eyes could barely discern his silhouette from the black fog that consumed the world behind him. His hair was almost completely camouflaged, and his motionless posture of judgemental curiosity giving him the look of a nightmarish department store mannequin.

"The fuck's up with you?"

'_I went scuba diving once…'_

'_I always thought about doing it again…'_

The claustrophobic nature of her surroundings finally caught on. The apparent nothingness behind Rock was at first unnerving, but she glanced around to take it all in. Rust-peppered metal covered everything the walls to the floor, ceiling…even the frames of the bunk beds around her. But that paled in comparison to the three barely-preserved remains strewn around her feet, their weapons spent and discarded, left to gather dust and kill no more.

_Submarine…Nazis…World War II…Painting…_

'_Take Revy, she'll help you out.'_

Fucking Dutch…fucking big mouth…fucking…

…fuck.

"I…nothing." She replied in a settling daze.

"Uh huh. Is that it?" He highlighted the framed canvas sat beside her with the flashlight.

'_You stay here and search around. I'm gonna take a walk and see if there's anything that can line our pockets at the market.'_

"It's fucking tiny! Looks even more like crap up close and in person. Wish I had fifty grand to randomly blow on a piece of shit."

_SS officer…Painting…'Twelve Knights Led By Brunhilda'…Führer…_

"Anyway, check this out; managed to pull it from the safe in the Captain's quarters. I bet this'd go for a few Ben." He had plodded to the other side of the room across from her and parked himself on the lower bunk. With a self-complimentary grin, he held a ribbon-hung medal up for her eyes to regard. It was a pretty and decorative four-pronged piece which, unlike the corpses, had somehow remained quite well-preserved, and it showed as its surfaces glimmered even in the low light.

_Photo…Naval officer…Family…Kids…_

_Heirs…_

_Heirlooms…_

_The right thing…_

"Rock…" A hand rose to pull back a wet and matted bang behind her ear, all while she voiced his name inside a despondent sigh.

"Just look…look at all this." She waved her hand across the floor, clearly pointing out the bodies around them.

"Can't you imagine how bad it must have been for them? The despair they must have had as they knew they would eventually die? How do you think they felt when they thought of their loved ones, and how they were completely hopeless to do anything about seeing them again, or even just saying their final goodbyes? " The hand Rock was keeping up to present the medal fell back down to his bent knee. Even so, his eyes remained on her in a still stare.

"These men…all of them had families; parents, wives and kids who were waiting for them. Even now, to this day, they don't have answers to their relatives' fate, just the blind assumption that they died fighting for something they believed in. These people deserve closure and respect, given what they did." Rocks stare remained focussed solely on her eyes, not even a single flick of a saccade to hint at any deviation of attention…and it unnerved her.

"This…" she held up and shook a photo at him, it displayed a Navy officer surrounded by his family: a wife and two children, "…and that…" she pointed at the medal in his hand, "…are mementos of their life, they are items of closure. The families deserve these things the most, you…we have no right to be taking that. To do otherwise is just…inhumane."

The moment she had uttered that final word, Rock was responding.

"Heh…" His low and utterly mirthless scoff was a complete display of defiant remorselessness.

"What the fuck do you know about inhumanity?" He goaded, causing her to glare back at him in a flash of minuscule anger.

"Do you even know what it is? Inhumanity is just a scarier word for something else. Do you know what that 'something else' is? Nonconformity. If you rebel in any way, you're made out as sub-human scum. It's just as disgusting as religious doctrine. But here's the thing, Revy, nonconformity is expression, it is freedom, freedom to think and do without a single fucking tether to connect you to authority. Rapists, murderers, frauds, thieves…_pirates_. They break the mould and actually live life, as fucked up as some of them may be."

Her brow contorted in disbelief as he lectured her in his supposed ways.

"Ever listened to Metallica? Eye of the Beholder? 'You can do it your own way if it's done just how I say', 'independence limited; freedom of choice is made for you; freedom of speech is words that they will bend; freedom with their exception'. Laws and scripture restrain, laws and scripture corrupt, laws and scripture turn a free person into a dumb sheep. Laws are made to be broken, and rights are nothing but petty states of self-entitlement made by those who believe they're in some kind of position of power."

"You see this?" He held up the medal once again. "You're using moral bullshit because it belonged to this guy." His head nodded at the body closest to her feet, whom he had earlier identified as the late captain of the vessel. "Who owned it, who presented it, who gets it in the reading of the goddamn will; none of that shit matters. The 'who' part of it means fuck all. Sentimental value means _no_ value except to the people who actually knew him. What does matter is the 'what': what it's made of, what era it's from, what condition it's in, how rare it is. Hard and solid facts of a physical object are what get you more of that stuff that makes the world go 'round. A buyer doesn't fork out at the prospect that some sailor's brat is mourning his daddy and wants a small piece of a fading memory." His voice had become more gruff and grainy as he had progressed. Ironically, anger was seeping its way into each word.

Her eyes were narrowed and mouth agape in shock. How could someone have such a skewed and hateful view of the world?

"And as for all these guys, I've got a big news flash for you, Revy: They're fucking dead. Everyone who was on this thing died almost sixty fucking years ago. They're just corpses now; rotting sacks of flesh, emotions can't exist around something that can't feel. You're feeling pity for the dead, which is disrespectful and pathetic enough as it is." He punctuated his speech by smacking his foot into a dew-covered skull on his side of the room. The skull left the ground and torpedoed out of the doorway and into the darkness beyond, a hollow clattering echoing back to their ears.

"I…I can't believe you think like that." She found the detailed answer unbelievably deplorable and borderline nihilistic, and it showed in her body language as her head sunk into a propped hand. There was a short pause in which she heard his breath immediately cease.

"Go fuck yourself, you hypocritical whore."

Only for it to shoot back up at his response.

"You talk of morality and 'the right thing' when you're in a rotting Nazi sub about to steal a painting, and if I remember correctly, you didn't say a single word in objection while we were still topside. You'd better think about your situation the next time you open your fucking mouth. I said it once already, you're in our world now, and you are an insignificant nothing."

Her throat seized up as his hollow, near-dead gaze pinned her to the bunk and froze her limbs. For a moment, she felt like she had forgotten how to breathe.

"You made the choice to remain here and that means you've freely thrown away whatever 'rights' you thought you had back in the land of lies, hypocrisy and sycophancy. I bet you've never truly lost anything before, but now you're all the way back at the bottom of a blood-coated ladder with nothing but a name and the body you were born with." He had started to speak much slower, doing his best to ensure that every single letter that left his lips was permanently ingrained in her head.

"I will give you one warning, Revy. Morality does not exist here. And believe me, the next time you even think of trying to lecture me like you're somehow superior in something you haven't experienced, I will make it my personal mission to end you like they do a fallen racehorse. You are in no position to command or guilt trip me like some desperate humanitarian, and I don't want to see any of your first world pomposity either. The next time you do it will be your last, I can promise you that."

She just stared back at him, pinned by his onyx glare and mentally racked by his threat. A mixture of feelings swelled in her chest, colliding in a train wreck of uncertainty and an ironic sense of humility. While he was right about her not knowing the world, it was still an abundant shock to see how people could so easily disregard common human decency. But from how he was putting it, 'human' was starting to look like too much of a compliment when referring to Rock; it was a lot more understandable to say that he was reverting back to basic animal instincts sans the financial greed that he possessed.

"We got what we came for." He dully droned, voice betraying a tiny strain as he shifted his weight forward onto his feet and stood up. Without wasting any more looks at her, he moved off to the bulkhead and towards the black veil beyond. "We're out of here."

With his first pace out of the room and makeshift Second World War execution stand, the darkness swarmed around him like water around a sinking stone, greedily welcoming him into an embrace of nothingness. His footfalls continued to broadcast from 'the outside', each patter against the bronzed iron floor getting lamer and lamer with distance…until there was nothing but her.

Sounds that would usually pass like ants walking on cotton wool were suddenly as deafening as a V12 engine revving in an empty tunnel. The thump of her heartbeat, the flow of her breath as it was sucked down her windpipe, the wet and slippery sound of her throat as she swallowed.

With the sudden loss of her company, it felt like a support in the metal structure had been yanked away and it was all beginning to shrink and constrict around her. A sense of claustrophobia started growing inside her in the form of a ball that swelled and tightened her chest. The remains littered around her certainly weren't helping, either, their hollow eye sockets preserved in a piercing post-mortem stare and jaws agape as if locked in a permanent scream.

But it was as Rock had said, their job was done, she had no reason to be there anymore. As horror-filled as the images of the long-deceased sailors was, they were completely dwarfed by the dead black glare, soul-rotting words and very real threats from her counterpart. She at least knew now that she was working with a complete head case, but it wasn't as if she hadn't figured that out from the way he acted on a day-to-day basis.

With no other reason to stay she scurried to her feet, briefly turning to pick up the objective of the commissioned job, and cautiously stepped to the bulkhead and the dark mist beyond. Her feet quickly glued themselves to the floor in temporary hesitation, but she knew that now of all times was not a good one to freeze up. Huffing out through her nose with conviction, she grasped the frame of the painting like she would a life ring and took the first step into the void.

She looked up; she looked down…left and right.

Nothing, total darkness. Her eyes were completely useless.

The regret of moving washed over her, making her spin on her heel to face in the direction from which she believed she had come. Even if she had got her bearings correct, the bulkhead that used to be behind her was no longer there; it, too, had succumbed to the eternal dark.

She was alone.

* * *

At least…that would have been the case had a tiny speck of white not punctured the veil like a needle directly in front of her. So her eyes were still working, that was a good sign. But before she could comprehend and analyse any further, the light overpowered the dark at an unfathomable speed, and just as the border between the warring forces passed over her she was forced to close her eyes. It was almost like a wave of energy; she felt it swarm over her, around her, in her, sending tingles through her skin, this time minutely pleasurable. Even without there being a wind to catch her, her balance seemed overwhelmed, rocking her back onto her heels and forcing her to take a step back.

Only once she had secured her footing once more did she open her eyes. It took her by surprise again.

She was in a crowded public square; chock full of chatting patrons, cigarette smoke and the fake laughter of concubines on a nearby street corner. The sun was mid-distance in the sky, a dulled orange luminescence bounding between the buildings and ground indicating a pre-dusk time stamp. A wide path was opened length-ways down the square, carving a path through a widened grid system of seated eating benches.

She spun around once more, finding not a single trace of the enveloping black curtain or its white extinguisher. Every single one of the people around her were acting with ignorance, though to use such a term would imply that she was not the one acting strangely and having these drug-like moments of ethereal transition between random events.

Still, though, her mind was being painlessly drilled with new memories that she was sure she had not experienced.

_The peaceful scenery of blue skies and emerald rice fields was doing nothing to alleviate the tension inside the car as it trundled along the main road heading into the main city district. Her eyes were nervously scanning the surroundings except for the road ahead of them and the impassive but nevertheless unnerving presence of the man beside her._

'_That fucking cunt!' Rock suddenly exploded as he sucked on a cigarette from his seat. 'Why am I always the one backing your sorry hiney up? Oh, that's right, you still need a fucking babysitter, apparently. Fucking Dutch…'_

But immediately after hearing Rock's outburst in the car, something seemed to echo after it; somewhat of a whisper hidden amongst the wind thundering past the open window beside her.

'_This sucks! This really fucking sucks! Why am I stuck here playing fuckin' errand boy with you? That's what I really wanna know. That lousy prick Dutch, I hope he dies!'_

As ghostly as it seemed, she heard enough to discern that the voice was definitely not male. It sounded oddly like…like her. Her voice had taken quite the grained and less-than-classy tone when she had one of her rare outbursts, such as during the helicopter fiasco.

"Oi, Revy."

Like a life ring on the ocean surface, a familiar voice reached her ears through the throngs of ambient chatter. She turned about again, seeing the enigmatic Japanese gunman sat by a bench but a few metres from her. She said nothing as she took in his slackened posture, one elbow resting on the table and a balled fist supporting his listed head. Although appearing lazy, his stern and calculating gaze upon her told of his constant awareness.

"You keep spacing out like fucking Rain Man."

"Er…yeah, I was just thinking." She shook her head in dismissal, acting as if to pass it off as a fleeting daydream. Moving to take a seat across from him, she noted the large bowls stocked with noodle broth and assorted regional vegetables. In spite of all the misgivings surrounding her relocation to the city of Roanapur, she felt nostalgic warmth at sampling such food in its region of origin; it was almost like returning to her mother's homemade dishes in the latter's vehement attempts to keep the Asian side of their heritage alive.

It definitely had a certain panache to it, almost similar to a long business trip. She could stay in all the hotel rooms in the world for the sake of business, but in the end they held but a matchstick to the comfort and familiarity of her own apartment. Multiple bedrooms, but only one would sate the heart. Subjectivity and personal materialism could be both a gift and a curse…

'_Sentimental value means _no_ value…'_

His words rang through her once more, causing the noodle-laden chopsticks to freeze before touching her waiting and parted lips. At that moment she swivelled her eyes upward to her company, and her utensil-wielding hand drooped as she spoke upon seeing his posture.

"Aren't you going to eat? It's been a while since we left the office."

Rock had maintained his slackened position, eyes boring a hole into the bench next to his dish, untouched and breathing wisps of steam into the air. Only after she had gained his attention did he regard her with a tiny movement of the head. He looked down at the bowl, scoffed derogatorily and looked away into the crowds ignorantly surrounding them.

"Lost my appetite." He mumbled disparagingly, like a grumpy child bereft of the treat it had demanded from its unwilling parents.

Savouring the seasoning in the vegetable broth that swam over her tongue, she herself felt a pang of impatience at his response. He had agreed to stopping for a meal before heading back following their little spat at the nearby de facto church, and now he was blowing it off.

Despite the fact that her business academia was supposed to come in handy for the ragtag crew that had informally adopted her, Rock had no issues with snatching the reins from her hands to negotiate arrears for their delivery services to a local strip joint – something that, while in a cringe worthy environment, she could have easily done herself. Though following that, his knowledge was much appreciated, since they had met with the Russian Mafia queen that had supported them during an earlier fiasco. It wouldn't have done her well to interact with such a high-placed and intimidating figure without the lingo or know-how.

By that point she had been barraged with a myriad of conflicting opinions. She could see Rock as both a shield to her novice form, but also a retarding harness that halted her possible growth and progression of a new reputation.

However, it had all taken a turn at the most recent deal: what was meant to be a simple changing of weapons and cash between retailer and consumer.

It could have been so different…

"Go on, have some", she urged whilst maintaining a gentle tone, "It's good. Besides, we'd rather not let that money go down the drain."

"I _said_…I'm not hungry." He said with full degrees of untethered frustration. His reaction was enough to have her halting mid-dine, the impatience having become contagious. Sighing in an attempt to passively vent, she noted the lack of change in his body language ever since she had phased into the scene.

No words were spoken between them for at least twenty seconds, the chatter of the patrons around them doing enough to hold off what would have otherwise become a veil of horrifically uncomfortable tension.

_Two guns…_

_On one side, a black, square-edged slide with a stout barrel, uniform geometric body and noticeable jut of a magazine base from the underside of the grip; iron sights trained between two dark, furrowed eyebrows. On the other, a chrome and ivory structure of curved, erratic edges, planes and switches. A lethal tongue of a lengthened barrel pointing at the location of its next round: through a dark pink sunglasses lens, that would surely send shards – and, obviously, a bullet - into the eye behind it._

It had escalated once their order was revealed to have not been completed before the planned pickup. Someone else _'had a more urgent use'_ for one of the items.

Even she knew it was bullshit, first come first serve is the order of retail. Urgency cannot…should not…breed sympathy from the supplier.

It's just common business acumen.

But then Rock had foolishly pulled his gun after a mere verbal provocation, an action mimicked by the so-called 'nun' across from him.

Insults, as well as an ill-timed flirtatious line, were flung between them. But Revy had remained resolute, calm, polite, all for the sake of the elderly woman across from her. This time around she had done her homework, looked at this 'Ripoff Church' and its recent deal history to find leverage. As much as a ripoff they may have appeared in the superficial sense, they were earning far more than their takings would suggest could be made from weapons sales alone.

Add to that the blonde 'sister' and her orders to move laundered items to a location where they would be immediately dirtied, it just aroused greater suspicions.

And she had proven herself right, despite Rock's urges for her to keep her gob shut.

At that moment, she knew she could become of full use. Much like the element of surprise, her personal element of knowledge could create even larger avenues. Light extortion and blackmail were meant to be above her; but then again, she was no longer bound by any kind of 'normal' law. With a tiny threat mixed in, she had secured the deal.

Rock, meanwhile, had stormed out with no amount of pleasantries and had remained silent ever since…

"Maybe I should be asking what's wrong with you, then." Despite being a statement formed from a normal, unabated tone, the anxiety in the hidden question was also there. They had left the church with what they wanted, and now she wanted to discover her counterpart's ailment.

"Maybe I should tell you to leave it." He shot back, finally locking eyes with her.

He didn't have to say anything. She already knew what the issue was. Throughout her time with them, he had her in an iron grip. He was watching her, judging her, begging her to give him more reasons to hammer down on her. And in all honestly, he had been successful so far during that day.

And then came the church.

In what could be interpreted as hidden spite, she had chewed off her proverbial muzzle and collar and made away from his constriction. Even so, he had allowed her to continue on after she had found the gap. It was only afterward that he had reformed once more into a miserable, aloof bottle of curse words and spittle. It came down to one thing.

She proved him _wrong._ Proved that she didn't need a steward in such scenarios.

She had proven…that she was _better_.

Because of it, he had turned into what he was at this moment. Annoyed, angered…possibly jealous?

How _dare_ he? That goddamn hypocrite! He expected her to roll over and take it like a back alley whore once he acted, while any time she did the same and proved her worth he'd become so immature?

That was it...

She could not have that treatment anymore, but to lash out would have heavy repercussions should she forget the submarine that she was sure she was aboard not seven minutes ago…

"Come on, Rock," she said in a sharp exhalation, "Please don't run circles around me. The day was going alright until the church. What happened?" She was pretty sure she knew what, but to wean it from the source of the tension would allow her to fully confirm.

As she had started to engage him again, he had slipped a cigarette into his mouth, extending a short sideways look at her before guarding his lighter from the wind with his free hand. A long, exaggerated drag from the tobacco was emphasised further by the expansion of his chest and loud breaths.

"Give it up already, for fuck's sake. I could have gotten this whole day over with twice as fast if you were somewhere else. Why waste twenty minutes playing Donald Trump when you can save fifteen by getting in their face and causing a rut? People fucking hate that, so they give you what you want, tell you to get the hell out and that's a done deal."

Her eyebrow twitched, she had him now.

"And what do you think would have happened at the church? The first thing that springs to mind is that oh, I don't know, we'd have ended up with a few corpses in the room, since you were so quick to pull your gun on them. If not that, then we would have left with our butts intact, but we wouldn't have been given the grenade launcher. That's a few grand down the drain right there!"

Her voice had steadily grown louder, fuelled by her bottled anger and building levels of stress. The moment she had started to list the other possible outcomes, Rock's head had turned steadily toward her, his eyes hardening quicker than reactive armour. A tiny raise on the outer edges of his now furrowed brow sent a clear sign: _'You're pushing it.'_

And honestly, she didn't care.

"You should be thanking me you ungrateful son of a bitch! I got us out of there with everything because I was willing to _talk_!" She was on her feet within moments, the food she had intended to enjoy already forgotten. "If you think a bullet to the brain is the best solution, then get on that high horse of yours and give yourself a goddamn lead lobotomy!"

Some passers-by had temporarily tuned into the berating, seeing a woman suited for desk work standing over and loudly chastising a slouching gunman seemed quite the amusing sight. But in the case of those who could see Rock's eyes, they knew otherwise.

She could see it, too. He had since stopped blinking, his head inclined slightly forward so as to have it further concealed by his scowl. Just like their initial meeting aboard the Melanesia, she was once again held to her spot by two lifeless pools of black. Although her initial outbursts had instilled in her the confidence to continue, she now had worries as to what would unfold in the aftermath.

"You can glare all you want, but I'm on to you. You have done nothing but belittle me, threaten me and outright hinder my usefulness, despite the fact that _you_ were the one who invited me to stay! You must be some kind of schizophrenic to accept help and then actively try and not use it."

Her throat almost burned from its sudden, intense use, but it was being soothed by the cooling air being forced down her neck as she tried to regain herself with harsh breaths.

"I'm not your bitch, so grow the fuck up and stop trying to put a leash on me. I am a part of this team now, whether you like it or not, and you _will not_ stop me from doing my job."

That last line was the only time she saw a reaction throughout her outburst. It was only a small narrowing of his eyelids, but nevertheless it was a sign that he was paying very close attention to her. She remained on her feet in preparation for a Hell-on-Earth response.

Still he stared at her, but a few seconds later he was ejecting a smoke plume from between his lips, the hand lying across his lap slowly rising to reclaim the cigarette between his forefinger and thumb. With the pinkie of the same hand, he nonchalantly scratched at the side of his forehead, which coincided with the curious raising of one eyebrow.

Rock sized her up, noting how her eyes would occasionally slip down to his trunk, where the only pistol visible to her sat snugly in its holster.

The cigarette, barely halfway burned through, fell from his fingers, allowing gravity to pull it down to knock against his boot and then catch in the gravel underneath. He stamped it out without so much as a sound before looking back up at her.

He had to admit, she had balls…

The physiological effects of her confident rebuttal – and the stunned silence from both parties afterward - started to make themselves known. She was trembling slightly, as if she'd been shot with adrenaline; her heartbeat had spiked with her vigorous vocal workout and her lungs, contrarily, felt tighter.

"Alright, I get it. Fucking hell, woman, you could scream for your country."

That, she was not expecting.

"Fine, in future you can do the talking, but since you feel that strongly about it, don't expect me to come saving your ass if you screw up." He looked down at the bowl in front of him, the steaming surface now a flat plane of lukewarm stock water and cooling noodles. She was about to sit down to let her little victory sink in, but Rock was instead standing to meet her.

"What a fuckin' day…" He murmured. Their eyes met, and she could see his relaxation taking hold, his previous glare of unreserved maliciousness seemingly evaporated into the humid afternoon air. "Come on, we might as well get back to the office, we've done everything Dutch was too lazy to do himself. I know a shortcut to the car."

As much as she wanted to stand fast and complain about the waste of good food she could see that, against all possible odds, Rock had allowed a compromise. Perhaps he knew that she had a good point, that diplomacy can trump or outright prevent an onset of violence. Had she proven her worth? Not quite yet, she would naturally assume; she would just have to keep demonstrating this little quirk of hers in future endeavours.

On top of that, the whole incident could have been the turning of a new stone for the working pair. Now that they both knew the score, they could possibly work with a little more cohesion.

Rock had strode past her without any other words, and she felt naturally inclined to follow, confident that they were now in a truce. As they strode down the long avenue, she had to look up and admire the beauty of the dark yellow sky, a peaceful sight in such a chaotic town, too many clashes between beauty and beast.

"Here." Rock simply said, turning towards a small back alley between two parallel rows of stores and cheap, run-down hotels. "We can hang a left at the end and the car should be there."

That, however, got her thinking again. Why park the car so far away? She could recall that this area was mostly a pedestrian-filled set of blocks, so running a car through the middle of it wouldn't be the most constructive thing to do. Even so, as she was addled in her thoughts and miniature analytics, she didn't think to stop when Rock ushered her into the alley, 'ladies first' style like a gentleman.

Only then did she come back to the world and find that Rock was no longer in front of her, instead there was nothing but a brick wall. The alley never extended to the next street.

It was just a _dead end_.

She wished at that moment that she had paid attention to the little voice in the back of her head. That he had been too quick to give in, that it was uncharacteristic of him. Damn it, it was all going _too_ well, and in a world like this she should have known that it was too good to be true. She should have paid more fucking attention!

'_No…'_

And only then did the gravity of it hit her. Her entire body was spiked with a thousand needles as fear, like a tide of arctic water, washed through her. Her lips parted, expelling an anxious breath, and her eyes shot apart quicker than they could blink. Thinking of fight or flight, she quickly turned on her heel…

…and received the most horrific and indescribable explosion of pain across her face, knocking her off her feet and tumbling to the ground. Immediately covering the lower half of her face with a scratched hand, she pulled it away to find it covered with red, the stabbing-like pain and sheer force of the impact blurring her vision. The disgusting coppery taste in her mouth flooded her broken nose, and attempts to move her tongue to spit it out allowed her to feel a few loose teeth in her upper jaw.

She had turned just in time to see a gloved fist darting straight for her face, far too close and fast for her to do anything about it.

Fuck…

The pain…oh dear God, it hurt so much, she'd never been subjected to anything like this before. So racked was she with shock that she hadn't the mind to scream in agony; and even in doing so she knew it wouldn't have accomplished anything. A shadow loomed over her, like a human standing over an ant, and she forced herself to look up at him against the jolts of fire at the base of her skull. He had almost hit her hard enough to break her neck…

"You dumb little slut," his voice had a tell of restraint based on the shakiness of his words, "Were you so fucking delirious to think that I'd _actually_ forget what I told you? I've known some dumb bitches in my time, but you're one-of-a-kind."

She said nothing, instead laying there with utter fear-induced bewilderment. Her breaths came out loud and through her mouth, her nose quickly becoming bruised and swollen after his punch had undoubtedly shattered its cartilage.

"I wasn't even planning for this, but you went and kicked the hornet's nest, you've given me a reason, Revy."

His right hand went for the pistol under his left arm in a calm and controlled motion, something that had her gritting her teeth against the biting pain in the roots of her teeth. But this time, she cared not for the gun, she kept her gaze firmly locked on his dulled eyes, emotionless and unsympathetic.

"I told you what would happen; I thought you'd taken the fucking hint. But I guess greedy first-world shitbags like you thrive on a try-hard sense of superiority no matter where you are and what station you hold. You disgust me, I should have killed you the moment you gave us that fucking disc."

"But you didn't," she tried to speak solely through her mouth; she sounded almost like she had a fever and a bunged up sinus. Her lips felt so uncomfortable with all the blood from her nose dripping over them, "You took me with you for the sake of your own greed. In the end…" She had to stop to breathe at regular intervals, having had her nasal airway blocked by blood and crushed skin, "…you're just as pathetic as that which you hate, you want capital, you want money and power."

She knew that this was her final stand, and she would be damned if she was downed without leaving her mark. Rock had already racked the slide on his Beretta, the infinite blackness of the barrel staring right at her untouched forehead.

"You're a cowardly little opportunist, you shoot people in the back and attack unarmed women to try and make something of yourself. That's why you're fucking _weak_, Rock."

It was clear that she hadn't just touched a nerve; she'd severed hundreds of them. It was why Rock stomped forward, lowered himself to one knee and jammed the barrel of his weapon hard against her temple. He was so consumed by fury that she could tell even through her recovering vision that a blood vessel in his eye had burst, marring his sclera with a large patch of reddened mist. Seeing him so affected by her taunting only had her smile in utmost defiance.

"Go ahead, pull the trigger. Prove me right."

He sat there for a few moments, gun still poised and finger slightly quivering over the trigger, but he retracted it and stood back up. Confusion became writ across her features, especially when he lopsidedly smirked.

"You know what's so funny about this?"

She said and did nothing as her answer, merely waited for him to continue.

"I've had people spew their little pieces of monologue like this before. It can be pleas, bribes, blackmail, some kind of intellectual crap; and I just think about it for a moment before I end them. But then I always remember one little fact."

The gun was levelled on her once more, his smirk immediately wiped from his face.

"No matter what bullshit comes from their mouth, the words of the dead hold the least significance. You can talk all you want, but it will never change the fact that I'll still be here, and you'll be in a hole. Try as you might, I will still win."

That was the clincher for the whole situation. She finally realised that he would never be open to suggestion, that he was too wound up in his own selfish philosophies to consider anything other than his own path. In a weird sense, she could feel a tiny amount of respect for his tenacity and will. Yet at the same time, she knew that any further attempts would end in vein. There was no way out.

She would die here.

Embracing that fact, she smirked up at him. One last act of defiance.

"I'll keep a seat warm for you in Hell, you psychotic wuss. I would hate to have to wait too long."

He actually humoured her with a tiny, mirthless scoff.

"Don't hold your breath, white-collar office dyke."

That was the best he could come up with? Whatever the case, she would take she could get. She kept her eyes locked on his, rather than give him the satisfaction of feeding off a supposed fear of the handgun bearing down on her.

The last thing she saw was the bright flash of igniting gunpowder spat from the barrel mouth.

The last thing she heard was the initial crack of the round being launched. Once the supersonic nugget of shaped lead had forced its way into her skull, through the soft tissue of her frontal lobe and liquefied her central cortex in a matter of milliseconds, all forms of stimulus were shut off.

Finally, for the last time, she was eternally reintroduced to black nothingness.

* * *

Sleep-encrusted eyes flashed apart to the sight of a gunmetal grey room bathed in the brightness of an overhead light, the thickness of her dried tears holding tight enough to pull out an eyelash or two.

She moved a hand to wipe at the obstruction to her sight, but winced with a hiss at the burning aches inside her right hand. Jesus…moving her fingers fucking _hurt_. She felt like she had no energy, like her torso was comatose but her mind was still turning, open to every sensation, every thought, every memory…every dream. The side of her head felt bruised from having lain on the hard metal flooring of the cabin, and the toes on her left foot seemed numb from when she'd toe punted that box the night before.

'_You piece of shit.' _

Christ…one little _fucking book_, and the Lagoon Company starts to fray at the seams from her reactions.

If only she'd never read that diary. If only Rock hadn't been injured by that explosion. If only they hadn't even gone to the Yellow Flag that night. If only-

'_I should have killed you the moment you gave us that fucking disc.'_

If only he was never there…

Wasn't that why she had tried to off him last night? No…it was different. She was already comfortable with him; it was his past words that kicked her off. He called her a sadist, a bitch…

…a _coward._

The last man to call her that had been relieved of his reproductive organs before she'd put seven rounds in him.

'_Fucking diary…'_

A growl from her stomach temporarily broke the tension, a knot of hunger twisting at her core, smiting her desire to remain where she lay.

She managed to right herself with her legs still tucked underneath her, trying her best ignore the ungodly stinging from her knuckles. Thinking back to that moment, her eyes lazily traversed up the wall to her right, and there it was, a faux-Pollock painting built from splashes and flickers of her own blood as she'd pounded her fist into the wall. Where Pollock would often work whilst intoxicated by substances, she would create her pieces fuelled by unrivalled rage and a voracious desire to vent.

No doubt Dutch would make her clean that up.

'_Fucking Dutch…'_

That was the other catalyst for the preceding night. Her own boss was under the impression that she and her bedridden partner had shared more than a hotel room during their trip to Japan. Whether he had any money riding on it was not something of which she could be certain, but the suspicion definitely wouldn't be beyond her.

Not to mention that he had gotten in her face beforehand. But who could blame him? She was a few inches away from blowing Rock's brains out. Hell, she would have done it, too, had it not been for a small part of her that knew such an action would be a large mistake.

'_Fucking brain…'_

Amen to that.

The experiences of the newest dream shook her to the core. It was like the twilight zone, she had gone back in time and dimension jumped to a world where…where she was Rock…and Rock was her.

Anything could be conjured up in dreams, so the validity of the scenarios her mind's eye had created were heavily questionable, and yet…

Some of it seemed so real. Too real.

She could recall the fear of being at gunpoint, the thrill of a successful plan, the dread of a serious death threat at the hands of someone close, and the outright anger against someone who can be deciphered to be a lesser person than they seem.

Except this time, he'd killed her. He had created a new tangent from their encounter at the restaurant, and dealt with her when she was least expecting it.

It almost reflected the desire she had at the original time of that event. She was truly focussed on ending him where he stood, forethought be damned, she had allowed her anger to control her, and it had caused a scene. The one thing she had not anticipated was his will to live. He had stood up to her.

At the time, that royally pissed her off. But thinking back at it now…

…she was glad he had stopped her. Something her dream could not do untoward him. It was as if he was having his revenge in a world where she couldn't touch him.

But now she could have a faint understanding of his lamenting, of his complaints regarding her in the early stages of their partnership. Despite that, she would never admit she was wrong.

"_We're both idiots and we've both made mistakes!"_

Okay, maybe she could as long as someone jointly shared the blame.

With a groan, she urged herself to her feet, examining her ruined glove and bloodied hand before looking back at her blood on the wall. At that moment, she recoiled, mouth repeatedly opening and closing with words stuck in the back of her throat. With no warning, as if they were on fire, her hands frantically rubbed at her eyes, desperate to rid herself of any deprecating proof of what she had done before falling to sleep.

She hadn't cried in over 10 years. Crying was weakness, crying was pitiful, disgusting, abhorrent.

Without even being conscious, Rock had brought her to tears.

And now she felt dirty, used…_played_. It was insulting, and she would rather die than have anyone find out about something so humiliating.

If only to wash her face, she had to get out of there. The memories of just one night were already becoming a haunting reminder of the frailties she was always so good at keeping veiled behind her ironclad character.

'_Damn it…damn it…'_

Even after sleeping, she still felt tired and worn out; it showed as she flat-footedly stumbled to the door of the cabin. She never looked back as she locked it, naively hoping that the memories would not follow.

She reached the bulkhead leading out onto the deck and with what little energy she could spare, disengaged the latch. She took one large step to re-enter her world once more, becoming fully immersed in a warm bath of morning sunlight and cloudless skies, leaving behind the cold and dank darkness of a floating tomb.

* * *

**A/N:**** So there we go! Revy finds herself under more strain, will she turn masochistic and continue reading the diary, or will she see avoid it altogether?**

******Fun fact: Believe it or not, this chapter of 11k+ was originally going to be much longer. But I DID take your feedback into account as I wrote it and shortened both the number of dream scenes and the length of the scenes that are in there. I don't ignore feedback, remember that! :)**

**Right, it's time for me to address the one main issue that came up from the previous chapter, and just this whole role reversal idea in general. I am incredibly grateful for your constructive feedback, and I can understand that taking the story this way was probably not one of my better ideas (it might actually be the worst XD). Yes, it has almost, _almost_ been a rehash of the Black Lagoon story, but on the other hand, I found that it was an exciting challenge to create new interactions and dialogues from an existing template. For example, how many of you thought that I was just going to have Rock lose his shit and try to shoot her immediately? I actually had this turn of events planned out long before it came to this chapter, I wanted Revy to come to some understanding, no matter how small, of how She had looked in Rock's eyes. Whether she will take anything from it is left to be desired.**

**So I'll admit that I could have done these recent chapters better, but to me it just seemed right. While Fifth Horseman believes that it ruins the fic, an opinion I can respect (thanks for the review, FH!), it ultimately comes down to reader subjectivity. One man's meat is another man's poison.**

**Rest assured that the story will return to normalcy from now on. So while this dream stuff may not have been the most amazing thing for some of you guys to read, I would at least ask that you give it a chance to understand where I'm going with it.**

**Until next time, thanks for reading!**

**Usual SOP: Like it, give it an alert. Love it, give it a favourite. Anything you want to say about it, give it a review!**


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